Sometimes I think of the one under my bed
The one in the shadows, the one in my head
Sometimes I think they were misunderstood
That they could've made peace if only I could
Sometimes I wonder if their hearts filled with hate
Perhaps they blame me for their rotten fate
Perhaps I deserved to be in fear for so long
an apt pain for something so broken so wrong
I do wish I could speak to them
I do wish I could tell
That hate for one's creator
Is a hate I know well.