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The Night Before Halloween

Poetry By: bobthebuilder

I originally wrote this in high school, back in 1976 or so. Thought it was really clever back then, not so much now, but thought you might still get a kick out of it. Enjoy.

Submitted:Oct 30, 2011    Reads: 538    Comments: 46    Likes: 20   

Twas the night before Halloween, and all through the house,

not a creature was stirring, except a dead mouse.

The children where hung by the chimney with care,

in hopes that Count Dracula soon would be there.

The mummies were wrapped up all snug in their beds,

while visions of torture chambers danced in their heads.

And mama in her coffin that I closed with a snap,

we had just settled in for an eternal nap.

When out in the graveyard there arose such a clatter,

I awoke from the dead to see what was the matter.

Turned into a bat, and flew like a flash,

tore through the cobwebs, the slime and the ash.

The moon in its glory gave light to the show,

the apparition manifest o'er the tombstones below.

When what to my bloodshot eyes should appear,

but a coffin on rails, pulled by demons in fear.

With a decrepit old driver, so fiendish and sick,

I knew in a moment, it was my nemesis, Ick.

As rapid as lightning, these demons they came,

and he cursed and cajoled and he moaned out their names.

And they cried and they wailed and they spat as they flew,

pulling a coffin of death, and old Ick, too.

With a screech and a thud they arrived on the roof,

I could hear the scraping of each cloven hoof.

I drew my sword and stood my ground,

down the chimney he came, and looked all around.

His cape was all covered in blood and in gore,

with long claws and teeth, he was ready for more.

A bundle of weapons he had flung on his back,

and he gave me the chills as he opened his pack.

His eyes, how they glowed, his scars, how disgusting,

they gaped open and weeping, with maggots and crusting.

His fangs glistened whitely, so sharp and so long,

and he drooled as he stared, he looked so very strong.

Then he smiled as he saw the victims arrayed,

on the mantle and hearth, hands tied and feet splayed.

He went right to work, in a flurry of death,

and he stole all their lives, to the last gasping breath.

Then he bade me farewell, told me this night I would live,

thanks to the hapless souls I did give.

Up the chimney he rose, like smoke he did go,

with the newly damned souls of his victims in tow.

He sprang into his coffin, issued demands,

and off they then flew, to far away lands.

But I heard him exhale, as they flew into the night,

Happy Halloween to all,

and to all a good fright!


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