I stared, my eyes wide open,
For something lurking to attack.
I swiveled my sight from side to side
But only darkness stared back.

I could swear I heard a thump in my closet…
Is that a gremlin hanging over my head?
I’d go and check, but there are goblins by my shelf,
And there might be a hydra under my bed.

With dragons and ogres and werewolves and orcs
All trying to give me a fright,
You’d think I’d be able to trust my Mom.
Oh, why did she turn off the light?

There’s dead air, but I can feel their breath,
Although I cannot hear them,
And though I see no scales or fangs,
I’m positive I’m near them.

I know that’s the ceiling fan whirring,
But I’m not sure about that "creak"…
It could have easily been a skeleton,
So I let out a shriek!

My Mom burst in and rolled her eyes,
"Michael, you have to be bold."
"But Mom," I said, "The Monsters!"
"Michael, you’re forty years old."