The Great Adventurer

Poor Big Monster September 29 2015, 0 Comments

“You’ve certainly got a lot of negativity
Coming out of your mouth,” I said to the monster
As he moped.
“I’m just too tall,” he said,
“And my teeth are too sharp
And my head,
It’s got horns
And I’m ugly and no fun—
People see me and run.
My fur’s all matted, I’m hated,
They’ve chased me out of town
And they’ll never let me back.
There’s no chance,
I’ll bet my pants
If I tried to come back
They’d just run at me with their fire sticks
And pitchforks and shake their fists
And yell my name
And chase me back to the forest again.
And maybe that’s why all I say is sad
And all I do is mope
And all I’ve got is hurt
’Cause what I’ve lost is hope.”

Oh that poor big monster, I thought to myself,
He’s just as fragile as everyone else.

You see I learnt that day
As I walked away
That even the biggest and toughest of guys
Can be caught sometimes
With tears in their eyes.