Scared?
Scared?
Look, a monster's under your bed!
Look, a ghost's above your head!
Look, a crowd of the undead!
Do the fears of childhood ever leave us?
Why is it assumed that
These fears, tearing at the torn, must be borne,
And thrown away at the gate of adulthood?
Fear the monster beneath the bed
For that monster may one day lie next to you
Fear the ghost above your head
For traditions, habits of the dead, can corrupt
Fear the crowd of the undead,
Unseeing, blank eyes unquestioning, staring at screens.
Fear them so that you learn how not to fear.
Lend those fears your ear and hear their tales.
For monsters once were children too,
The ghosts were scared, the people moved
By fear of being left behind.
For good deeds never go unnoticed.
Someone's always watching - behind you - boo!