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.