There was a monster under my bed,
At first, I thought it was all in my head.
It listened to all that I said,
And whined all the time while I read.
I asked it many things.
But all it said was let me dream of rings.
I tried to tickle it with my drawstrings,
And it started laughing like a monkey with wings.
To keep it happy.
And not sappy.
I passed it some snacks;
boy, he was grabby,
But it was still unhappy.
I finally mustered up the courage one night,
To switch on the light.
I came down from the top bunk hoping it would not bite.
Lo and behold! My, what a sight.
Lying there on the bottom bunk,
Curled up around its trunk,
Sleeping as peacefully as a monk.
There was my brother who scared me for nights;
argh! such a punk.
