HalloweenA Poem by Ethereal flowerThis is a poem about someone who is haunted every year, I wanted to capture how fears change as we get older
A creak in the floor,
a howl at the moon, Witching hour is upon us The hour that brings me doom Ever since I was a child, since I slept in my own bed When Halloween arrives The Witches and Ghouls enter my head. At the age of two the told me stories about the fierce things that live in the wood, the werewolves who eat you alive and how all the good things die. At the age of four the monsters came, ugly and hideous and mean They made me stay up all night, forcing me to join in their plight At six the psychiatrists put me on meds, thinking it would stop them get in, but the demons got darker and sat on my bed talking about how much I had sinned At ten the nightmares started to change, angry clowns haunted my room with red balloons and bloody faces And I screamed until I was sedated. At thirteen the unlucky number came, but my haunts were no longer childish, the voice of failure entered my head and I started to long to join the dead At fifteen the nightmares were no longer yearly, My life was one itself No Ghoul could get to me that night, The drink had claimed myself. At sixteen I laid awake on the ward with the teenagers who had mental disorders, I waited up for the witches to come but the morphine meant my brain was out of order At seventeen I was back in my own bed, the world was black and bleak the old ghosts, who had scared me before, I welcomed back, the familiar clique. At eighteen I was no longer scared, The Ghosts and Ghouls, The Witches and Werewolves And the clowns with their red balloons stood, forming a red and black sea, but the mirror I could see my reflection in showed, That the scariest thing was me.
© 2015 Ethereal flowerAuthor's Note
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Added on October 27, 2015 Last Updated on October 27, 2015 AuthorEthereal flowerUnited KingdomAboutBlogger writer and psychology student wanting to have somewhere to post all my ideas! more..Writing
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