Everything must go through anything that is a form of change.
Some are more severe than you expect and some just rearrange.
No two are different,no two are alike.
You can leave just as you came.
Tell the sun to take a hike because the moon is to blame.
The color of rust covers its skin.
No longer surrounded by its kin.
As they would in the day,they have hidden themselves this way.
Down comes a haunting glow from a face that we all know.
Well is that so?
Look up and adore the lunar pumpkin in the sky.
It's looking back down at us,it can see a lie.
Watching the witches fly.
Werewolves,vampires,ghouls and goblins we impersonate you see.
For it lights up the night for them,yet makes it dim for me.
It is usually yellow or as white as a cloud.
Usually you hear bats,yet they are never this loud.
Inside was serene innocence,nothing seemed odd.
Now the tide is out of place and the innocence is a fraud.
Nothing here can be unseen.Thanks to this moon born on Halloween.
Copyright © Diarra Boatswain | Year Posted 2019