Under the dark, cold night,
Two lost children were skipping in forest
Singing a lullaby from their mother.
Their voices quiet and trembling
And fearful eyes moving in every direction.
The bread crumbs they dropped were eaten by the birds
And they had none left to help guide them.
“Where do we go?”
“I want my mommy.”
“Someone help us!”
Their weeps drowned the lullaby
And the only thing that filled the forest was their cries.
Then, an old woman taking a stroll in the forest
Heard the cries of the lost children and approached them.
“Oh, my poor little children, you are lost.”
“Why don’t you come to my house and I’ll bake you a sweet apple pie.”
The weeping children happily accepted her invitation and followed her.
They arrived at the old woman’s house and she kindly opened the door for them.
Once the children entered the house,
They stopped and stood frozen.
Their bodies began to tremble
Their eyes once again filled with fear.
What awaited them was a hot apple pie sitting on a table
Along with two other children seated at both ends.
The pie was garnish with eyes and blood,
The other children with no eyes weakly wept,
Only blood streamed down from the hollow holes,
Where the eyes were gouged out.
The door closed.
The children alive were trapped.
The old woman stood behind them,
With a sinister smile.
“Now I shall bake you a new pie.”