Keep the Porch Lights On
LITERARY
Upon the deepening dusk of Allhallows’ Eve,
I wait at the sconce where shadows agree,
Wrapped in cloth of drenched threads,
Faced with a danger unseen, a silent threat.
In crossed fingers I stride—
I approach a house adorned through the night;
Humming the pledge of treats, I knock at the door of hopeful sight,
Hungry for my rightful reward, I watch tight,
"Trick or Treat!" I let out with all my might.
Creaks echoed as the door opened—
They greet me with a grin unfazed by my creed.
Under blinding lights, the house remains still,
No dainties await, just a fleeting thrill.
Then they lay out their lavish stage for all to see,
Yet when I seek for what is due,
All they present is a poison that settles on the tongue—
A meed of a dose of disillusionment I must swallow:
Nothing but callous lies I’ve been fed since I was young.
Heavy feet and cold lips are what I carry as I yield,
The weight of grief, unsettled mess of what is sealed.
And so, I deal with the ghost of what once stood,
Settling at my submerged house while they stay at mansions high—
Their privilege unseeing and conscience drowned.
In passing, no one pays for the toll I have towed,
And no one really reaps for what they have sown.