It’s Halloween,
When the ghosts and ghouls scream;
And vampires hunt
For blood flavoured ice cream.
It’s Halloween,
When people suddenly turn green.
And those who don’t eat jelly bugs,
Not caring for hygiene.
Its all Hallows eve,
And if you believe,
That I have something up my sleeve.
Something that is no trick or charm,
The thing up my sleeve happens to be my arm.
It’s Halloween,
When on no other day of the year are these things seen.
Where people buy sweets in every kind of creation.
Is it to form a sort of alien nation?
Or is it the biding of a million dollar American corporation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem