• Her hands in her pockets
    Her hood high on top of her head
    She walked slowly down the street of the existing dead
    The sky was mysterious as the moon arose with its dishonest grin
    Moving the offered departed with the wind
    A cold breeze blew through her unhidden hair
    Then to her face so luminous and fair
    Streets filled with creatures of the darkness
    Her ears over flowed with their loudness
    She continued on through their dismay
    In the end she found her way…
    Her way to life “on the other side”
    A door but what does it hide?
    She knocked upon it three times
    When it opened she spoke a rhyme
    ‘Trick or treat, trick or treat give me something good to eat”