The Headless Child
It's that time of year again
Kids go door to door, with their friends.
Rumors float around, about what had happened last year
A little boy killed, by the Grim Reaper.
Children try to stay close, not straggle behind
A bloody head, some children did find.
This is, every year, the Grim Reaper's night
Toying with children's minds, while his sickle takes flight.
You can still hear the haunting screams
Children being awoken, from their dreams.
Parents rush their children, so they can get home
Don't want them being lost, in the dark to roam.
Some people say, they've seen the child's ghost around
Will the headless body, be lying on the ground?
Children wander to and fro
But haunted houses, they dare not go.
Little footsteps can be heard
But they dare not, say a word.
Up to well lit driveways, they do run
Try to hurry, before the Grim Reaper doth come.
They pass by a haunted house
Trying to be as quiet, as a mouse.
In the shadows, the Grim Reaper creeps
Stalking all children, without making a peep.
Children go through a, rusty, open gate
Where the headless child and Grim Reaper await.
The headless child, by them, he was seen
While the Grim Reaper, swiped the other children's heads off clean.
Parents and children were heard screaming
Hoping and praying, all were dreaming.
The headless child let out a chilling laugh
On the ground, bloody bodies lay cut in half.
The headless child's eyes, glowed a blood crimson red
Standing over the innocent trick-or-treaters, lying on the ground dead.
The child snatches the Grim Reaper's sickle from his bloody hands
Roams into the night, getting the revenge he demands.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
Oct.31/2005
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