Down the road
a child walks,
to a home
his mother knocks.
A house so old,
tired and grey,
a wafting scent,
of decay.
A house with eyes
a house that hungers,
a place of wretched,
horrid wonders.
With a push
his mother sends him,
into the dark,
dismal grim.
She leaves that place,
all alone,
a distant cry,
a distant moan.
The house has eaten
the house will dine,
on the rest,
in the waiting line.
On Halloween
these parents roam,
with naughty children
to this hungry,
haunted home.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
Down the road
a child walks,
to a home
his mother knocks.
A house so old,
tired and grey,
a wafting scent,
of decay.
A house with eyes
a house that hungers,
a place of wretched,
horrid wonders.
With a push
his mother sends him,
into the dark,
dismal grim.
She leaves that place,
all alone,
a distant cry,
a distant moan.
The house has eaten
the house will dine,
on the rest,
in the waiting line.
On Halloween
these parents roam,
with naughty children
to this hungry,
haunted home.
Where all the naughty children go on Halloween... best be good.
