Everyone, surely knows,
after the war,
over the lost blood will the peace be restored
even though it is an enormous pain
it will be shown a great reward and gain
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/other_one_and_a_half_percent_of_the_time_1419322
Wonder why her comments function is turned off.
This seems to be same old story about a lot of things
Ebony took her jack-o-lantern and sat on Cauldron Hill.
She was Old McWee’s familiar, so she knew she could be still.
The silence of the night boded well for the Eve of Halloween.
Ebony’s magical powers assured her she would not be easily seen.
The wind was just strong enough to flicker Jack’s candle a bit.
Ebony watched a wolf pack go by, she held on to her sit.
The leader of the pack did not sense her, but his wife was fey
She turned and smiled her teeth at her as he led the pack away.
In the distance Ebony could sense the children getting ready for bed.
Among statutes of ghosts and witches, and some devils of an ugly red.
Jack-o-lanterns flickering. Their moms came in for a good night kiss.
Old McWee came toward Ebony and asked “What did I miss?”
Same ole story, Ebony said. Like every Halloween from 1933.
They are singing the same tunes, running the same direction, you see.
There are some new cartoon costumes, of which I am not aware.
But it is the Eve of Halloween, so there is still magic in the air!
When Linda Hand met Peter Hyde
Friends believed she would be his bride
Without any dough
Love melted like snow
And then - brokenhearted - they died.
The American Revolution describes the process whereby one George was replaced by another
Though Jack has climbed his beanstalk,
Saint George his dragon slain,
Gulch-Mammon lives on happily
And myriad is his train
His belly is enormous,
Yet full it ne'er will be.
The moment luncheon's over,
It's time to start high-tea.
Gulch-Mammon's teeth are millstones
Whose grindings rarely cease.
His slightest indigestion
Is menace to our peace.
And every time he sneezes,
Things worsen, though they're bad,
And every time he belches,
The Richter Scale goes mad.
Perchance he bored with eating,
He starts to smoke and fume.
You'll always know his whereabouts.
Just watch out for his plume.
His home is just palatial,
For gold is everywhere.
His rest-room seat is golden,
A thing most choice and rare.
No one knows for certain,
The income that he draws.
Whatever you are making,
It's vastly more than yours.
There on his vast plantations,
Some kine are thin, some fat,
And many laws and statutes
Did little to change that.
Are Jack and George just sleeping,
Or are they in his pay?
Whoso may know the answer
Seems disinclined to say.
Tradition rules all
The ways of society
Change, nowhere in sight
same old story as ever told before
girl meet boy they fall in love
two months later shes with his buddy harry
hasnt this tale been told enough
wreckless smiles cloud a misty hallway
as our hero walks into her deadly trap
chained to a cross as she taunts him with his best friend
as the ground crumbles beneath his feet
mother please will you wake me from this nightmare
lock me away far far from here
dreams become useless at a certain distance
like a crosshair on a gun
same old story as ever told before
girl meet boy they fall in love
two months later shes with his buddy harry
hasnt this tale been told enough
just the same old story
just the same old story
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