There Are Monsters


There are monsters.
They lurk in living room corners,
Down back aisles stacked with groceries,
Under car chassis,
And in window seats of our favourite coffee houses.

There are monsters.
They sit behind desks,
Hide behind bureaucracy,
Cause carnage with the single stroke of a pen,
Then cloak themselves in legalities
They make a mockery of.

There are monsters.
In our mirrors,
And our turned cheeks.
In our silences,
And on our tongues.
In our biases, and prejudice,
And blanket blame.

Because yes, there are monsters.
But they’re not the monsters you’ve conjured,
Nor the ones tarnished into existence
Just to fit a convenient profile.

We are monsters.
The question is.
Which kind of a monster are you?


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