My Halloween Tale
A demon sped under my bed to whisper a weird offer to me.
A little share in Heaven up there, but I thought halos were free.
In a voice like smoke he softly spoke of this payment plan,
"Just sign on the dotted-line and be quick about it young man."
My head spun. I felt this urge to run screaming from my room,
because such things could only bring me a hellish doom.
I choked, "Is this a joke? You can't be selling me paradise."
And then I knew it wasn't true, "Not at your damned price!"
In a fiery flash he quickly dashed across my bedroom floor.
And with a wink he vanished in stink to be seen no more.
- Buster
It's my birthday at midnight on Halloween. Seriously, my head left my mother on October 31st, and my ass on November 1st. I wrote this poem the night of my 26th birthday. I'm 52 years old tonight. I thought I'd share a bit of the stuff I did half a life time ago, before my Unreal days.
