Under The Bed

• Lucinda Lagos, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2014

I’d swear it on my life,
There’s something under my bed.
My mum says that it’s not real,
But I know it’s not just in my head.

There’s something there, yes I know it.
And everyone thinks that I’m strange.
They say I’m too old for this kind of thing,
They said that I needed a change.

I was taken to a plain white room,
With a strange machine in the centre.
I wanted to leave but they locked the door.
And a little old man bade me enter.

He wired me up and then lied,
He said that it wouldn’t hurt a bit.
He fired me up with electric shocks,
Eventually I had to submit.

I told them there weren’t really monsters,
I told them I must’ve been insane.
But they just locked me up in another room,
And sent some more shocks in my brain.

So now there aren’t any monsters,
I’ve gotten them under control.
But monsters are still real, for sure.
And they’re living in everyone’s soul.