The Night After Halloween
the night after Halloween
walking home from a lifeless downtown
I see a poorly made skeleton
hung by a noose
blowing in the wind
tied to a tree branch
older than I am
as leaves dance around my feet
until I kick them away
and silently wonder
"How often do people lie to themselves
to move ahead with their lives?"
There are no more hills to climb
No more childhood mountains
to conquer
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