It stared at me,
with its lack of eyes
I gingerly cut it open,
scraped it out
callously
Without remorse or consideration
Of the life it had lived.
I taught my young the same
indifference
And made that pumpkin
It stared at me,
with its lack of eyes
I gingerly cut it open,
scraped it out
callously
Without remorse or consideration
Of the life it had lived.
I taught my young the same
indifference
And made that pumpkin