Creeping from underneath the bed
Out of the depths unknown
To places where no one’s been
…and no one ever goes.
It spews and spits verbiage
And repressed barbarisms, defining
Feelings and urges that have been
Shrouded in the unconscious.
Its right paw is catlike,
Holds pink roses and signs purrs.
The left claw is that of the dragon.
It bleeds hearts and weaves nerves.
Bestowing a loosening of connections
Though metaphors and similes.
Poems that rarely rhyme
Often plague the mind.
Though if you listen to them,
Applaud, and throw a smile,
The Monster may come out
…and entertain you a while.