October Ghosts
Mud casts no reflections in the nightmarish fog
There are ghosts in the corn fields after harvest
Resurrecting fear in the hearts of children
Masked apparitions, beggars of candy small
Meandering on the viral cobbled paths
As little monsters come to call
Real horror rises in the inner city
Housing complex doors wait for knocks
Tiny fists wake up the living dead
Poverty-ridden souls inside have little to offer
And less to give
Autumn slides into Winter sideways
Between the cracks of bricks night falls
Between the invisible crime on the streets
October calls and children listen
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