I thought monsters liked closets
and the floor under our beds.
Then one showed me his face.
Monsters like that aren’t so picky.
They don’t care about age or location.
They don’t care about race or religion.
They don’t care about clothes or money.
To them, we’re all the same.
They pass us on the street at noon.
They wear three piece suits
and faded jean jackets.
To him, we’re all the same.
Harmless smiles the perfect disguise
for what hides inside.
And it doesn’t cost a cent –
their soul given for free.
The world changed color overnight.
But she’s still mine to protect.
His face hidden in plain sight.
Mirrors public enemy number one.
Anger lending me its strength.
Beggars can’t be choosers.
So I’ll take whatever it can spare.
One shade of red replaced by another.
©Brenda Baker 2016
Part 13 of Hushed Voices