Poeme'en - Eve

Bed

Exclusive and especially for Poeme'en, Kneel Downe has written a poem for us. Don't read it in bed...

Tell me Child,
Do you believe
The Dead return on Hallow's Eve?
Shuffling cold
On cobbled streets
Rotting fingers
Hands
And feet.
Warty Hags
And watchful Crones
Taking selfies
On their Mobile Bones.
Naked Trees
Window tapping.
Blood stained sheets.
Twisting.
Flapping.
The stench of ages
Makes you ill.
As they slither neath your window sill.

So tell me Child,
Tucked safe in bed.
Will you return
When you
Are
Dead?

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