It’s hard to ponder, hopeful days turned to fearful nights
Fears created by childish fantasies from stories told by those most trusted
What goes bump in the night is a reprieve, when real monsters stand before you
A childhood guarding doors from those who break the world
Littles protecting littles with plushy camouflage, silly to reminisce
Unseen innocence concealed under the refuge of best of friends
Hidden is the truth, right infront of everyone’s eyes
Left to the wolves who devour sanctuaries, spitting out the bones
Ghosts do not haunt, but are always a welcomed besiege during times of personal trials
Carried over from juvenility paving the future with doubt
Yet, here is the narrative of real monsters stalking not just the blackest of nights
But also the brightest of vulnerable days
Shell de Toni 