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I was about 9 when I wrote this. rofl

The Beast



A thing lives in my house.
Its big and scary and mean.
It has teeth,
The size of tombstones,
And eyes,
As big as saucers.

At night I hear it scoring.
It rattles the windows,
Shakes the doors,
And bangs the pictures together.
I lie in bed, shivering under my blankets,
Wondering if it wants a midnight snack.
I hope not.

In the morning its eyes are red and angry.
Its eyebrows, furrowed into a tight bundle.
It roars, its devious roar.
And begins it’s morning hunt.
It rummages around the house,
And snatches the thing it desires.
It eats sloppily,
Like a starved lion,
it gobbles up the contents of his plate.
It gets up from his chair,
And moves on to the bathroom.

I walk into the bathroom,
Looking from behind the door.
I see the thing,
Thrashing about,
With it’s tooth brush.
Tooth paste,
Splattered all around,
Toilet paper,
Still wrapped neatly in a bundle.
The beast looks at it,
Picks it up,
And makes a monster sized mess.

The bus arrives moments later.
The thing, stumbles on board.
I’m glad, I don’t go to it’s school.
For the thing,
Is my little brother.



I think it is cute for a 9 year old. blaugh