The Formative Fears

in the ditch
close to our home
a monster lives
with claws and teeth
it pulls in children
for them to drown
that surface has
death underneath

on the lands
close to our home
men work hard
in cold and rain
those who don’t
lazy and weak
die poor, unhappy
deserving pain

in the city
close to our home
an orphanage stands
where bad kids go

my suitcase packed
you had enough
put on your coat
“ready to go?”

see that man?
he’ll die alone
there was a girl
she died right there
i knew a boy
kidnapped, now dead
it’s all the truth
my child, I swear

thank you, mom
for vulnerable years
when you instilled
some lifetime fears

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