Frankenstein’s Monster
Many corpse parts on Parade
I knew not the living womb.
From the dead I was made.
Pieces of flesh from the tomb.
Many corpses parts on parade.
Given life by lightning’s flash,
from the storm, my soul was taken
From me you should run fast,
for I am one of the forsaken.
The townsfolk they all chase me still.
For my end they all yearn.
I am the thing that always will,
be a creature of their concern.
How can me you destroy?
I am one of the undead.
With the raw power I employ,
I fill your heart with dread.
Dr. Frankenstein stitched me together,
with body parts all so odd.
The question that lingers forever:
Can man ever be a god?
About the Creator
Mark Stigers
One year after my birth sputnik was launched, making me a space child. I did a hitch in the Navy as a electronics tech. I worked for Hughes Aircraft Company for quite a while. I currently live in the Saguaro forest in Tucson Arizona
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