"Then looking on his target,
he smiles.
There is no reason to hide."
POEM BY ALANNA RANSOM, 10
The cold dank air filled the night,
Leaving those awake in a breeze.
It fills our lungs with freezing air,
It’s an omen and makes everyone freeze.
Tonight's Halloween, or All Hallows Eve,
Children dressed up,
Collecting candy door to door.
A man alone walks towards a lovely home.
He looks out of place even for today,
He wears a long black cloak,
Gives off an air of “go away."
He is on a mission and he’ll continue that way.
You might ask him his name,
But some risks are better
Not taken. Some names everyone knows,
Yet would be best gone forever.
He enters the gate,
Cold air following in his wake.
He unlocks the door with a flash of light --
How befitting for this Halloween night.
He first meets the man,
Takes him down with a single blow.
Then continues on,
After whom he is searching.
The woman,
Standing guard before a crib.
The air smells of a warm home,
A safe place for a child’s head.
He does the same,
as he had with the man,
and moves her aside.
Then looking on his target,
He smiles.
There is no reason to hide.
He raises a wooden stick,
Aiming at the crib.
The toddler stands tall,
Who doesn’t know this man at all.
Sparks of green light,
Heading straight for the boy.
But nothing happens.
The man is gone, the little boy left to cry.
“Momma” cried the boy,
“Daddy” cried the boy.
His head hurts and he is frightened,
Another man comes and takes him away.
The boy is a legend,
Before the age of two.
The little “Boy-Who-Lived”,
Whose name, finally, everybody knew.
The cold dank air filled the night,
Leaving those awake in a breeze.
It fills our lungs with freezing air,
It’s an omen and makes everyone freeze.
Tonight's Halloween, or All Hallows Eve,
Children dressed up,
Collecting candy door to door.
A man alone walks towards a lovely home.
He looks out of place even for today,
He wears a long black cloak,
Gives off an air of “go away."
He is on a mission and he’ll continue that way.
You might ask him his name,
But some risks are better
Not taken. Some names everyone knows,
Yet would be best gone forever.
He enters the gate,
Cold air following in his wake.
He unlocks the door with a flash of light --
How befitting for this Halloween night.
He first meets the man,
Takes him down with a single blow.
Then continues on,
After whom he is searching.
The woman,
Standing guard before a crib.
The air smells of a warm home,
A safe place for a child’s head.
He does the same,
as he had with the man,
and moves her aside.
Then looking on his target,
He smiles.
There is no reason to hide.
He raises a wooden stick,
Aiming at the crib.
The toddler stands tall,
Who doesn’t know this man at all.
Sparks of green light,
Heading straight for the boy.
But nothing happens.
The man is gone, the little boy left to cry.
“Momma” cried the boy,
“Daddy” cried the boy.
His head hurts and he is frightened,
Another man comes and takes him away.
The boy is a legend,
Before the age of two.
The little “Boy-Who-Lived”,
Whose name, finally, everybody knew.