Wicked, Wicked Night

Children sweat behind masks, wearing frightening costumes, all to scare their friends and strangers passing by. Stringed glow sticks illuminate bulbous spiders with spindly legs and warped goblin heads with rotten teeth and foul breath. “Wear these around your necks,” their parents say. “Ward off the evil and the dead.”

Giant pumpkins with jagged teeth and menacing eyes pepper front porches and driveways, luring small kiddies in with the promise of treats instead of tricks. Mummies slumber in doorways. Dead bodies litter leaf covered yards. Screaming witches cackle and lunge from dark shadows—their teeth yellowed and their long nails curled and putrid green.

Shrieking laugher rings out, riding the wind as warlocks fly on broomsticks. The moon witnesses all, shining bright from its perfect height, just bright enough to distort the true. Hide where you must but don’t linger too long!

This night take care, for you take your life into your own hands. Be wary of sweet clowns, for they are just as sly as the werewolves that bare their sharpened teeth. Protect your children from the wild spirits and ghouls. For all things living face the dead this wicked, wicked night.

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Poetry

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