Sometimes when he's not home
the old monsters come to roost
They perch on my shoulder
and whisper mean things
they make me slow
and indecisive.
Sometimes
when I'm
alone.
They feed me too many M&Ms
and hide my running shoes
and tie me to the couch.
These monsters
really got it
in for
me.
Then the telephone rings to deliver
his strong tones over the line
The monsters trip over
themselves to scurry
off to caverns dark.
Wusses
after
all.
1 comment:
Monsters in all of us. We try to replace it by the soreness of training.
But they can't be all bad since they sometimes feed us all the junk food we desire.
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