The land of the free.
With so many people of pedigree.
Which makes us sounds like a dog.

As, we try to describe the way we are.
When speaking about our heritage.

I'm Irish American.
I'm Italian American.
I'm African American.
Or European American.
When simply stated about your race.

If you're American born.
You're American.
Verified and validated.

To be real.
To be true.
We're not complete sure who's what?
And who is who?

We just needs to correct ourself.

About, who we are?
Or think we are.

You might be American of Italian descent.
You might be American of African descent.
You might be American of Asian descent.
Or American of Irish descent.
Or European descent.

Where we all might be mixed to be kins?
When we think of only being friends.

We only see black and white in one country.
Which I never fiqure out the color.
None of the skin identify to the race.

But we see B and W on many application forms.
Which I have never figure out why?
Or less it's to discriminate from hiring.

But we always seems to blend in as one.
When some one attacks your country from a war.

Then color becomes second nature to us.
When we proudly states what country we belong.
And heritage doesn't get mention at all

HALLOWEEN IS HERE
CAN YOU FEEL THE SILENCE  IN THE AIR?
STILLNESS WITH A TOUCH OF SPIRITS
FLOATING IN THE LIVING ROOM
I STARE OUT THE WINDOW
DARKNESS FALLING FAST
CREEPY NOISES COMING FROM A DISTANCE
I GO GET MY FLASHLIGHT
I INVESTIGATE
MY DOG ACCOMPANY ME IN THE DARK
SHE STARTING TO  SHAKE AND HOWL
I INSEST ON WALKING  THROUGH THE WOODS
I SEE SOMETHING, CAN'T REALLY MAKE  OUT THE FIQURE
NOISES KEEP GETTING CLOSES AND CLOSER
AS I WALK FASTER AND FASTER
MY HEART IS STARTING TO POUND
I REALLY STARE AT THE FIQURE ,
IT LOOKS LIKE MY GRANDFATHER
I FEEL LIKE I'M DREAMING
I GO BACK INSIDE AND POUR A GLASS OF WINE
JUST TO REMEMBER IT'S HALLOWEEN
I FEEL A TOUCH ON MY SHOULDER
A WARM REATH OVER ME, NO ONE AROUND
I FEEL THIS SPIRIT SO WARM AND TRUE
I LOOK AROUND SO MANY CHILDREN AND ADULTS
IN HALLOWEEN COSTUMES
I GO GET MY CANDY TO HAND OUT TO THE CHILDREN
I SMILE THIS IS A SWEET TIME
I WAS HAUNTED AFTER DARK

Whats our purpose here on earth?..
When do we fiqure out where our journey starts .?
Why arn't we born  knowing?
And when do we find out where our  voyage takes us.l .
Will it be the end for us all in this place we call life.......When we do find out?

The group of twelve trying to fiqure out how to live life again.
Parties ever night but not knowing when to stop.
Laughing and giggling over the boys that will live next store.
Stories are being written that last will forever.
Each night is feeling like a second but days are lasting forever.
The group that will going down together or making emeies at the end.