‘Twas a cool, dark night two weeks ago I chose to make a monster.
Apparently the horror shows are the ones I like to sponsor.
I could’ve slept, and been at peace, but I gathered tools instead.
And started crafting this foul beast, the moment before bed.

A tiny ask for a small song, of course that would be fine
I extended it the following night, to two songs, twice the time.
The next night just a little prayer after the lullabyes.
And then a holy story right before he closed his eyes.

Then I looked at him in horror and wondered what I’d done
He’d taken to snarls and growls over the sucking of his thumb
Now his eyes wouldn’t shut, he had 12 on his head
I said “Good night” and horns grew out and tore his sheets to shreds.

So I did a book, a prayer, a song, and ended with a story
But of course it wasn’t good enough, and sadly it got gory.
The monster grabbed me with his claws and kept me in the bunk.
It held me there and I was scared that sleep was out of luck.

The next night was a wily show of hopeless magic tricks
A pep talk then some poetry and soporific skits.
As options waned I reasoned I should tranquilize the beast.
Drowsy pills and vitamins I fed it like a feast.

Now I’m wise on exactly how a man can make a monster
Take all your good intentions of the sleep that you will foster
Then take a new request each night as if it will placate
Instead it breeds a bedtime beast, and then it’s all too late.