The monster
It's hide is like a shaggy rug,
It's face is surly, ugly mug.
With two edged horns atop its head,
Between a mop of hair that’s red!
And in its nose, a ring of gold,
It smells like rotten fish and mould.
Its toes are black, its fur is blue,
I swear that all I tell you is true.
But you may ask what does this monster do?
Well here are some things that this monster can do.
They’ll sneak into your library and scribble in all your books,
When decorating your Christmas tree they tangle up all the hooks.
They’ll spoil the milk, they stop all the clocks,
They use their horns to put holes in your socks.
They’ll probably make you sleep too late,
And they will never ever wait.
They muddy up your tidy house,
They make you feel as small as a mouse.
They break your crayons, they spill your tea,
They wake up babies at 1:00 and 3:00.
They’ll make you forget all the things you were taught,
They’ll make you lose your train of thought.
They’ll dig up your garden, they won’t beg your pardon.
They eat your snacks, they won’t relax.
They chip your tooth, they steal your youth.
(And now you know the horrible truth).
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