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Literature Text
Mama, leave the light on
Ghost trails
of white sheen,
flickering edges
around the edge
of the sheets,
There's nothing to be scared of
glowing fangs
in the dark maw
of the black monster
that came into my room
every night,
It'll be dark if you turn it off
no eyes
that I saw,
but that monster
makes you blind.
The dark can't hurt you
Every sound a witch
muttering curses,
or her little demons,
playing hide and seek,
I don't like it, mama
and I'm the bait
in the trap
that the hunter is using
to catch them all.
Stop being such a scaredy-cat
Claws of night breeze
that nipped into
my skin
if I dared to walk
into the monster's cave
I don't know what's in there
instead of staying
tucked under
the too thin duvet.
It's the same room as it always is
It couldn't keep
the dark out,
but it made me feel
like I had a shield,
however flimsy.
*click*
The Forests Light
March of Time
This Is The Time of Your Life(You Just Can't Tell)
And I wouldn't have called my mother 'mama' at any point in my life, but the Swedish word is mamma, which isn't far off.