Jack, How They Cut Thee

Dull complexion, orange flesh,

Unsheath this rusted knife;

Scraped across his stoic face

To steal his trusted life.

Hacking, slashing, stab and cut,

“No more, alas, no more!”

Raging anger unsatisfied,

Till his guts lie on the floor.

Roasted meat, the flesh so sweet,

Tastes good enough to eat.

Take a seat, and feel the heat,

No trick tonight - just treat.

Crooked nose, and jagged teeth,

Bright eyes that judge us so.

Flame of hatred burns inside

Igniting his hollow soul.

Empty skull, his sculpted face;

A corpse filled with light.

Lines the streets and corner stops

To brighten Samhain night.