Down the bead flowed
All the way to the ground
One of so many
And they fall with no sound.
He was scared of the noise
He sweated in fear
It ran from his bald head
It tickled in his ear.
Down to his chin
Then a fall to his chest
We’re nearing a private place
So we’ll skip to the rest.
It rolled down his thighs
Then behind both his knees
An unpleasant sensation
That does nothing to please.

Did I say – he was scared
He was scared of the noise
The howling like banshees
Of Beelzebub’s boys.
They come every year
There’s a knock at the door
And the children with menace
Say ‘This year give more!’

©Joe Wilson – Trick or Treat, or worse…2015