Frankenstein’s Monster’s Mother
He had my eyes and his papa’s nose
And a killer’s hands and a burglar’s toes.
I gave him my heart, but you sewed in another.
Oh, spare a thought for Frankenstein’s monster’s mother!
He had his flaws, but he wasn’t all bad.
What did you make, Victor, of my innocent lad?
He lay sleeping in his peaceful grave,
When you came along with your plan so depraved.
You dug him up to cut him apart
To refashion foully with devilish art.
You robbed him of rest, of past, and of name,
Then left him alone and fled the blame.
They say now he’s a thing to hunt down to kill.
He’s not all he should be, but I cherish him still.
My son is my son, be he live, dead, or other.
Oh, spare a thought for Frankenstein’s monster’s mother!
— Roynald MacRoss
7 October 2025
Halloween Day 7
A blog by Bedrieger Junction's Slant of Light writing group