She knew she wasn't like the other pretty girls,
they had words for her uttered in silence not
formed into word other than those on scraps
of paper. For rumours have power not through
voices but images held like a prisoner in he head,
Disfigured were her traits, genetic abnormalities
most were told or as rumors spread. She held it
every year nearly identical such intricate design
that went into this pumpkin head, those of ill taste,
muttered words aloud is that your father as she
rested on her pumpkin patch.
She smiled with all she could, for her deformity
made the resemblance of a pumpkin similar but
for a difference of she had flowing hair. As years
past and the head seemed just slightly different
with each year that passed seemingly the same as before.
But this time the eyes were hollow and inside not seemingly
pungently orange but white and hollow.. this was scarier
as what became before... till a policemen wondered near.
Smelling a stench of not rotting fruit. but something more.
"Child what do you hold on this dark forbodig night,
"Why my daddy sir, I wanted to show the world something
uglier than I, so I held him on hollow's eve to show the world
that there is something more ugly than me,
"Ugly my child who pray tell would say such a thing,
"Daddy did everyday, said I was a seed from the field
and seeds don't fall far from where they fell,
In amazement he looked beneath where she sat pumpkins
from years gone by had rotted and new ones spouted in
there place but each a distorted look as each started to rot
on top other that had fell. beneath he saw what seemed to
be a palm of white holing on to seed a bag of something prey tell.
"What's in the bag sweetness,
"A bag of seeds, from where his hell sprouted and began,
"Each of these you see is a moment a memory of his life,
"And I sit here with his head and then I place him their
to watch what I crush each formation o thought under foot,
"For each one that grows is a memory and I will crush them
all under my footing till nothing grows here till death is still,
Child why would you do such a thing,
"Do you not know beauty is on the inside,
"I will show you beauty of what you speak,
Following cautiously from what is seen, he should have radioed
in. But she is but a child what can she do. leading him between the
long grass to a garden of illuminated beauty. looking bewildred
at what was and now seen.
"Through the pumpkin patch, that was my place of regret,
"So what is this place child,
"My garden of redemption,
"Redemtiooooooooooo.......,
And those where his last word as she spoke three words
"TRICK OR TREAT....
For he was the treat for the flowers to bloom.
Blood lilacs and roses of the night had a taste for certain
nourishment, and they only drank on each hollows eve...
She smiled as she sat on the pumpkin patch, that hand
of her fathers features just revealing enough for her to allure
the curious to not take her features as a needing for sorrow.
but more of a trick to treat that what thirsted out back..