9 October 2012
They say you go by Boo, You withering, not-so-old man, you. To most, you seem like a creep, Haunting children in their sleep, Fear and wonder spark their dreams, But ain't nothing as it seems.
You wander over, late one night, Get your sick fix simply by sight, Watch them in their willow beds, Seeking the night that lies ahead. They fall asleep and dream of you, And wonder what it is you'll do.
The eve brings black and bitter breeze, You flee before you start to freeze. Slink back home, you slimy man, Slug right past your pedo-van, Full of nothing, not even gas, Candy and treats you will not pass.
Pumpkins, lights, there is no show, Your house already has a spooky glow. One step, two, you go inside, In the cellar you like to hide, Long from light and fresh, clean air, To feel alive, you couldn't care.
Cooped inside your Creeper’s Den, The kids won't see you, once again. They're all dressed up, prancing around, They giddily wander through the town, Seeking sweets this sinful night, Awaiting any type of fright.
Odd enough, you won't come out, You won't make them scream and shout. You would make them run in fear, Concerning those who happen near. But no one’s seen you, they never will, Hiding this long takes some skill.
The eve of the year shows its face, None of the youngsters will win the race. New and used tactics to make you appear, But never will you let them cheer. Your sheer avoidance doesn't make sense- Remember that boy’s shorts on your fence?
You want the one across the street, But you two have yet to meet. You must want to know him more, Considering all that's happened before: The coins, the tree, the hiding place, All these things, you can't erase.
You are a weird and strange one, Boo, I doubt your name could even scare you. If your appearance doesn’t, what on earth will? You're thin and crusty and you look quite ill. Your skin, translucent from lack of light, You truly are a disgusting sight.
The ’treating is over, you’re safe and sound, Hidden in your house, quietness abounds. "AHH!" Shouts the boy from down the street, You grab your knife an hop to your feet. Huff and puff, you reach the boy, Now what will you do with your sharp, shiny toy?
Boo • Opuss № I