The Last Pumpkin

You are the last pumkin.

Left bruised and misshapen,

Nobody wants you.

So you simply sit there,

Watching even the most desperate of people

Give you a look of disgust,

And walk on by.

The sun ducks down behind the trees

As day turns into the blackest night,

Not even a moon above

To give off any light.

You are left cold and alone,

Uncarved and unlit on this

Dark Halloween night.


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