Justin Robbins Poet I do not know?

Monsters Under the Bed

Passion overflows in forms of demise,
to begin life in shapes of stars.
Twinkling with lips,
that glows in the dark,
of a childs dream,
...with monsters under the bed.

Every shadow moves,
lurking in corners,
eyes that smoke in a firless pitt,
become the monsters,
...the monsters under the bed.

The beds shroud hides,
all that I see,
but I know these monsters,
...these monsters are looking at me.

Shaking and trembling,
this coldness swells,
forming my breath,
of a ghosts errie tail,
still I know there are monsters,
monsters I swear...are under my bed.

I cower as I see the light,
flicker a unseen angel,
saved by the grace,
of a loving mothers eyes,
scareing away the monsters,
...the monsters under my bed.

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