Baby is Scared
Baby was born,
And told he was a monster.
Convinced he was a monster,
Waiting for the right moment,
To attack its prey.
Baby is scared,
Dreading the day he’ll lose control,
And the monster will take over.
“Don’t worry Baby,”
Mommy said,
“Do as I say,
And you won’t be a monster.”
Mommy’s rules are clear,
Strict,
And firm.
Any deviation,
And the monster will take over.
Baby is scared,
Dreading the day he’ll lose control,
And the monster will take over.
A life of constant fear,
Anxiety,
Paranoia,
Watching every step,
Peaking over every corner,
Tip-toeing around every vice,
Or sin,
That may open the cage.
Sometimes,
Baby thinks he can hear the monster,
In the back of his mind,
Waiting to get out.
It talks to him.
“Let me out,” it says,
A voice of gravel,
And spit.
“And you won’t be scared of me anymore.”
Why?
“If you turned into me,
You wouldn’t worry about becoming me.
You would be me,
And I don’t worry about anything.”
Baby is scared,
Baby is tired,
Baby wants to be the monster,
Because monsters don’t get scared.
Mommy told him,
About the monster.
She’s the first to be eaten.
