melissaahowells
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in a kind of gloomy depth or confusion in a sort of self-inflicted hazing of aloneness in that cave or near the end of an endless maze the gangrenous sorrowing amplitude of loneliness grows and grows then echoes until Its all the monster knows and bemoans ah, so all alone no wonder a monster becomes a monster no one will or dares to give exactly what the monster needs most to live what It craves for most in the deepest of its dreams what It pines for, whimper-cries for in its loudest screams what It wails for in quivering scales for so banshee-loud-and hungry-toothed all bared for in Its singularly cramped lair for what a monster wants and needily needs is love, love, love and so when the first person happens along and listens disturbed, to Its haunting song, foolishly arrives at the entrance to Its rancorous gate its no small surprise when there's a frenzy of gnashing, rending and blood letting and breaking bone the anxious monster cannot wait and suddenly yet again the monster finds Itself alone... though He thrilled at once, and cried aloud now mine, Mine, MINE!!! the monster's frame is sadly, lowly bowed satisfaction now past his appetite cowed still confused not quite knowing at last what It has undone the loneliness within Him now has triumphed once again and won *************** Copyright May 31, 2016 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author Melissa A Howells/Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World all legal rights are reserved by this Writer/ re-edited Sept 27 2017 5:14pm PST this is a complex idea...which may take a little more time to develop I believe we all have a bit of the old M in us...think on this yes....I purposefully capitalized all the "it's"...wanting you to examine what is the monster here in society...the monster Itself, the loneliness we impose on those who are different...or....?????...I want you to really think about the subject of humanity here and what makes a monster a monster and what separates us, who are the real monsters and if things are really as hard and fast and black and white as they seem... And why are we as a society so fascinated with them...vampires, Frankenstein, zombies, ghouls, poltergeists, werewolves, chupacabras, Mothman, Loch Ness, the Jersey Devil, ET's and abductions.... No, things are not so black and white...I don't think so. Where's the mirror and who is really looking in? Vote for this poem |
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