That dead end street

It is said and is believed in town, that no one! and Yes! no one lives there, in that spooky thatched house painted brown, should you walk down that dark street, beware! not a single street lamp on at night, council cut power off years ago, on odd nights people have seen some light, softly glowing from chimney above. a raven sits on window some days, silent, watching proceedings about, should raven have his usual say? that is matter of town-talk, and doubt. police do not do their daily beats, hear rumours of them running away, some coppers in sleep wet their sheets, well! they are human, not made of clay! curious one day, I ventured out, on a dark night, no one was around, must overcome fear, to clear a doubt, so stole my way to door without sound! the door creaked open as I pushed in, was surprised by many folks around, there was food with wine, music and din, a hand dragged me in, on to their ground! Well! wisdom comes from common errors, learn more from action than from books read! I know now why that house held terrors, we learn when alive, more so when dead! Written 11/11/2023 9 syllables each line abab rhyme sequence Dead end street poetry contest sponsored by John Lawless!