Halloween, a poem by Abhinav Aradhi

 

Halloween, a poem by Abhinav Aradhi

All the people are strange,

For they are bitter strangers,

Who live and die by the ambiguity,

And who cherish the thrill of the unknown.

 

And all the people are chameleons,

Who don disguises like conmen,

Then traipse through days,

Faux-pas ghosts flitting about.

 

Every time the sun moves an inch,
There go the people in costume,

Dancing through the streets,

As though there were a masquerade ball.

 

They link up with the nearest receptor,

As though they were hollow drones of the night,

And they stumble through days on end,

Invisible to their truth.

 

Where did all the people go?

Who can really tell,

When the world is composed of foreigners,

And people who lie?

 

If everyone doesn’t belong,

Then who really matters?

Is it a paradox of identity,

Or a crisis untold?

 

Gaea’s mask may never slip,

And the people may never shed,

But like little demons on Halloween,

They are gluttons for incentive.

 

All it takes is a little reward.