After a while you get used to the feel of a needle in your hand
Poking stabbing pulling and tightening through
Honest work under an honest sun
In spite of all the rain that's come
You get used to the taste of supermarket food
Easier to spend wisely when you shop alone
Don't stare down any one stranger too strong
"Take a picture it lasts ten times as long"
You get used to old clothes old contact lists and no plans
Giving up booze alone won't stop the anger
No one wants to hear it when you're sick of it all
No one's offering to break your fall
No such thing as an honest living down here
You get used to the borders you were born into
No one really has a say in it
No one's going to get away with it
Not a Horrorquest entry, per se. It's kind of a downer and I was never very festive.
But I would call it sinister. Happy Halloween.