I figured I should post something. This is a poem I entered in a bedtime poetry/story competition a couple years back. It's also published in my school's literary magazine.
Night
There once was a boy
who didn't like night;
He'd only feel safe
when it was bright.
So when it was bed-time,
he'd moan and he'd groan,
he'd hide under the covers
when he was alone.
Then there was a day
when he fell out of bed,
and out from the closet
poked a small fuzzy head.
It looked at the boy
and then the head said:
"Timmy, I am the monster
from under your bed.
But don't be afraid,
because I'm your friend--
We'll have fun and play games,
until the night's end."
So they played and played
all the way until dawn,
and when Timmy went downstairs,
his mom asked what was wrong.
Then he looked out the window,
at the sun shining bright-
"man" he said,
"I wish it was night."
