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Oct 2010
I was a chaparone at the All Hallow's Eve dance.
Listening to the band play Halloween faves,
and watching the eyeballs floating in the punch.

The background decor, seems made for Doomsday.
Grungy, haunted house theme, hellish ghouls,
Gargoyles gone mad, witch's brew, and bats all aflutter.

Here and there between the goth and the empath,
a psychopath roams, silently stalking his prey,
amongst the frightening selection of costumed kids.

The mental resilience to survive such horrors,
depends on your grasp of reality.Β Β Realizing the lights,
the music, the garish dress, meerly decor for this night's festivities.

And yet, underlying this ghoulish fun, a sense,
a sense of doom, and *******, by something
otherly, stalking its prey, seeking that single moment.

To bring to light in the dim, ghostly haze,
a wickedness yet unknown to those attending.
That ever vile teacher, bent on making those around her suffer.

We have all seen her, stride the halls purposely,
Giant mole on her chin, Ruler in Hand.
Striking fear in the strongest of souls.
That authoritarian of witches, Ms. Nasher the Head Basher!

For Can you Spare a word or 5?
Psychopath.  Chaperone.  Resilience.  Doomsday.  *******.
Judy Ponceby
Written by
Judy Ponceby  Ohio, USA
(Ohio, USA)   
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