Maybe

Maybe there is such a thing as a monster,
With big green eyes and pointed ears.
Maybe he stalks around all night
Trying to scare little boys to tears.
Maybe he is eight feet tall and covered with fat
Because he eats little girls, especially my sisters.
Maybe his skin is tight and raw
And the heat from the sun has covered his head with blisters.
Maybe he’s out under my bed
Waiting to see what he’ll make me do.

Maybe.

Maybe it’s true.

But maybe it’s just my drunken dad,
Stumbling in, late again,
From being out with the boys
Trying to find the world’s worst sin.