xSilentNinjax

The monsters aren't in the closet. The monsters are outside. When we grew up we realized That in there's where we should hide. They chased us in here with their knives And framed us for our "crimes". They point and say, "Beware the closet! Monsters are inside!" I hear them talk about "my kind" Through cracks between the door. All I ask is for respect, How could I ask for more? The hateful glares, those judging looks And all the dreadful things Assault my waking moments and stalk me in my dreams. I shake and shiver, whimper and stir, Safe inside my closet. But safeness seems so temporary when outside foes appall it. We've