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The Man Who Was Dressed as the Grim Reaper


On Halloween Eve I attended a feast
Where friends were disguised as brilliant beasts
Amid all the rags of black, grey, and plum
My red dress blotted the floor with red rum
I was the Queen of Hearts for one night
Flattered by men who blushed at my sight
I was a caricature of women who rage
I was a damsel from the Victorian age
Though I was proposed to by all the males
I rejected them at the swish of my scarlet red nails
There was one man, in the corner of the room
Who caused my intrigue to tenderly bloom
He was not a clown, a cowboy, or an ape
He was a skeleton in a flowing black cape
This sort of blasphemy I've never seen
To dress as the Reaper for Halloween
He transformed a holiday of fun and fear
Into a reminder that death is too near
He left to the garden, and I followed and whined
And told him his costume was way out of line
He turned his head and I shuddered at his face
Which was a skeletal, bleached disgrace
"Sir, I demand you unmask your brow!
Your cruel satire is sure not allowed!"
He looked back at me, his eyes but holes
Such a costume! This man had no soul
I grasped on to his face only to reveal
That the ivory white skull was perfectly real
But the touch was more than I could describe
He emitted an almost supernatural vibe
Petrified, I could not squeak nor scream
To awaken me from this devilish dream
Then he held his raw bony hand to my cheek
I was so in awe that I could not speak
I realized his beauty, his pure physique
Like all of us, he was incredibly weak
He was the most innocent form of man
No brain, no greed, no selfish life plan
My pompous red dress, sinful with horns
Compared to his heavenly crown of thorns
The whiteness of his skull, blinding in the night
A most terrifying but magnificent sight
I was so stupefied, I admit to this
I stood on my toes and leaned in for a kiss
Never did I taste a death wish so sweet
But then he crumbled to ashes at my feet
Alas! I cried, for I had no defence
I destroyed this man's divine innocence
I was a Queen! And I was in a rage
But I can't love a man with an empty rib cage
I met a strange man on Halloween
Who was life and death and all in between
Rolling in the ashes, I do confess
Was no Queen, but a damsel in distress

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