The Orphan Girl
Grable was a monster, cruel, mean, not that nice.
If a human came his way, h’d eat it in the thrice!
Town folk would charge with fire, shouting this and that.
Grable would charge back at them, with a plague of rats.
Truth to tell, Grable was bored. Same old shouting, same old scene.
“I want something more,” he mused, crumpled up and on the lean.
Then, one day, he saw an orphan girl, playing in the streets.
Scruffy, muddy, with a rag doll, but a spirit that seemed sweet.
“There you are!” Miss Poobottom snapped. “Get yourself to bed!”
The orphan girl ran around, ducking the broom aimed at her head.
Grable snapped! Against ghoul rules, he jumped into broad daylight.
To give the orphan caretaker, the most sickening of frights.
He spent the rest of the day prowling here and there,
making sure the orphan girl had time to smell fresh air.
Grable had tried being nice to a child, for no real good reason.
The other monsters raged; “Nice? Why, that’s an act of treason!”
Grable gave them an evil eye. “Don’t go making me mad.”
Even the worst monster knew, to fight him would end bad.
Grable watched the little girl, playing with her raggedy doll.
“Help me find a way,” he whispered, “to save my rotten soul.”
“Ice cream would be a good start,” she smiled.
“Or picking flowers in a field.”
“Whatever you want,” Grable said. “For now we are each other’s shield.”
Grable found playing picnics was awkward for him at best.
But there was a joy in protecting, that gave his heart some rest.
To return the favour Grable took the orphan girl to the air,
to have fun flying with dragons, a few hours without care.
“The place they house me is cold,” she said. “Meanness fills its heart.”
“Is it too much, Mr Grable, to wish on another start?”
“That will be up to you,” Grable growled, as they pondered the stars.
“I’d help, but I’m a monster, one day I might stuff you into pickle jars.”
“Best I go with my mob, fight giants and other stuff,
Dissolve into mythology, where life is meant to be rough.”
“Don’t leave,” the orphan girl pleaded, hugging Grable’s leg.
“You’re my only friend, please don’t make me beg!”
“I must,” Grable insisted, before whispering his big secret.
“Belief keeps monsters alive, so, hey, your faith in me, please, keep it!”
“I will,” the orphan girl insisted, “That’s a given fact!”
The steel in her eyes told Grable the little girl had his back.
To show his thanks, Grable pulled a tooth for her to wear,
so everybody knew: Be friendly, don’t so much as stare.
“Take this girl’s advice,” Grable insisted, when he dropped her off.
“Put some colour on the walls. Sing songs, wear odd socks!”
Then the lonely monster, drifted back into the night,
His future hinging on an orphan girl,
small and scruffy,
with her own quiet might.