Just around the corner they live,

Waiting…

Watching their pry,

For the perfect moment when no one is looking,

For that perfect moment to strike.

Their looks are misleading,

No horns…No tails…No claws can be seen.

Their manners are polite and perfect,

They have their act down to a “T”,

But inside rages a monster’s heart,

Hidden from the world to see.

Just around the corner,

Behind faded curtains and words dripping with lies they hide,

Watching the children on their bikes riding by,

Just waiting to strike.