The Monster
He wore a human face and smelled of cigarettes and beer
Nicotine stained fingers,body odour stench the monster is here
Tears on a child's pillow bloodstains on my skin
No respite no rescue possible as the monster dealt his sin.
Beneath the blur of darkness he feasted,had his fill
I remained silent no movement ,deathly still
Night after night this routine was repeated
This child fought a monster and has emerged undefeated.
Matt Earl 2019
This is so sad. Child abuse and child molestation is something we need to address. This is terrible. Your poem is great. You are a great writer.