The scary monster was never under bed.
No, actually, he was my best friend instead.
From him I learned so much,
lessons I still carry with me today.
But now, rather than advice, he always has something negative to say.
It's always what I'm doing wrong,
and how to make it right.
How, no matter what, I'll always be in the dark, and he will be the light.
He roars, he grumbles, never does he listen.
I remember days when we'd be together and his eyes actually glistened.
Through life, I've watched him and I change and drift away.
Now he's ready to pounce whenever, in my closet where he stays.
But under the harsh words we always share,
I really want my monster to know that I still care.