Monsters are real.
Monsters aren't pretend.
They hide in the shadows,
And they mess with your head.
They move in the darkness,
And sleep under your bed.
They haunt your closets,
And make you bleed red.
Monsters are real.
Monsters aren't pretend.
They exist for the sole reason,
Of increasing the dead.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Compilation
PoetryJust a collection of poems I tend to jot down. Please give them a try.
