For Hallow’s Eve, I thought Candy Apples would be yummy,

For vampires and witches who want candy in their tummy.

Because of the excitement, I spilled the red dye,

All over my shirt and into my eye,

With my apples colorless, the doorbell rang,

And as I opened the door with my fake set of fangs,

All the trick-or-treaters screamed and ran.

Perhaps it was because my shirt was dyed ruddy,

That they ran, perceiving it be bloody.

But as I ate each apple in solitude,

I gained less and less confidence,

In making Halloween food.

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