It sits in the dark at the end of the hall,
And waits for the children to sleep.
Its body is huge, over twenty feet tall,
Yet folds on itself in a heap.
It smiles with evil and wicked intent
As out from the shadows it crawls.
Its back is all twisted, contorted and bent.
Its fingers are shredding the walls.
Its eyes are as black as the void in its heart.
Its teeth are like razor-sharp pins.
It seeks to eat children and tear them apart,
And to make clothes out of their skins.
It hopes it will feast on their tender young meat,
And boil their blood for its tea.
For all of their parts, it considers a treat.
It hisses with maddening glee.
It stops at the door that will lead to the room
Where its favorite sustenance lies.
It grins as it thinks of their impending doom,
And as it imagines their cries.
Its tongue slithers out of its gaping black maw,
And happily licks at its cheeks.
It soon will have children to chew and to gnaw,
For it hasn’t eaten in weeks.
It reaches to open the solid wood door,
The hinges not making a sound.
It silently enters, its feet on the floor.
It then stops to look all around.
And there are the children, asleep in their beds.
Their breathing is even and slow.
It thinks it would like to begin with their heads.
Its hunger continues to grow.
It towers above them as closer it strides,
Its watering mouth dripping drool.
It wonders how good are their little insides.
Its methods are wicked and cruel.
And then the bright sunlight breaks over the hill,
And hits it full-on in the face.
Its screaming is horrible, sickly and shrill.
But children can’t hear its disgrace.
It runs for the dark that gives it protection.
Its plans have been foiled for now.
It sulks in its pit with utter dejection.
This beating, it will not allow.
It’s already thinking of yet a new quest.
It smiles and closes it lids.
Its hunger will never give it any rest.
Perhaps you should check on your kids.