There was a monster in my closet.
In my shoes.
Behind my shadow.
Everywhere I went, it followed.
I cried, I wept, I sighed.
They told me I was crazy. Seeing things, hearing things, all invented.
The monster lives on.
It still lives in my closet, in my shoes, behind my shadow.
It stops everyone from feeling sorry for me at my darkest times.
When I need a friendly smile or a cuppa tae, the monster blocks me from their view.
Nothing gets through but coldness, indiference, neglect.
My grá is the only man who sees the monster, shoos him away and wipes my tears. But will he outlive the monster?
Maybe it will live on.
In my closet, in my shoes,