Monster Therapy – Poem
A poem about monsters who have lost their audience. In “Monster Therapy,” Greg Luti places Dracula, Frankenstein, and the others in a session where they keep asking the same question: where have all the scared children gone?
There is a special therapy session for those who need to be taught a lesson.
The class is of monsters, you know,
From the Boogeyman to that guy in the show.
All monsters go to ask the question they need to know.
Where are the scared kids?
Where did they go?
Dracula in his black cape and fangs.
Was the first speaker to stand up in the gang.
My teeth don’t work. My garlic is rotten.
It seems the kids have just forgotten.
Do I not suck blood and make them scream?
Have I become nothing but a dream?
So I just have to know.
Where are the scared kids?
Where did they go?
Frankenstein, bolts and all
Stood up next in the middle hall
I rise from the dead. Is that not enough?
Do they think it was just a silly bluff?
My walk should send shivers down their knees
So I ask you all pretty please
If you just so happen to know
Where are the scared kids?
Where did they go?
Next up was the Werewolf with all his fur.
He just growled, leaving others to infer.
A high growl here. A high growl there.
He growled until he shook the chairs.
The room stood silent without a peep.
For the whole room hung onto their seats.
Clearly he just had to know.
Where are the scared kids?
Where did they go?
The ghost floated up for all to see.
He talked loud for a transparency.
I could be as scary as you all.
But now I am about to fall.
Floating no longer does the trick.
I need to learn something new and learn it quick.
The kids laugh at me and wear my cloths.
Maybe I have gotten soft.
I just have to know.
Where are the scared kids?
Where did they go?
The monsters left the session full of coffee and cocoa.
But still no one seemed to know.
So I will ask you.
Where are the scared kids?
Where did they go?
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