Eight-line Poems 2

Trapped

Trapped

Monster under the bed,
not joking - I saw his head;
the kind of thing I dread,
don't care what my mom has said

Dare not run for the door -
as soon as my feet touch the floor,
that thing will open its maw
and on my bones will gnaw.


Line count: 8
Rhymed aaaa bbbb
For Express It In Eight, 02.17.26
Prompt: Write a poem about something under the bed.