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To live in world bereft of myth

A stark cold place of bitter pith

Would be a world so dull and dim

Like worship without screed or hymn

But there are legends that bring ill

Forced on some, against their will

This loathsome fable, makes babes cry

Where often good goes home to die

Decay now urban ‘cross the land

Has set up home, The Candyman…

Believed that if you look in mirror

Say name five times, will bring him nearer

To slay the one that utters name

Existence treated as a game

Was once a slave, but rose in rank

Forbidden love, his fortunes sank

Killed by a mob, chopped off his hand

Attacked by bees, born Candyman

He haunts a people, still oppressed

That live in squalor, dread and mess

He gathers souls, it keeps him free

His rage, it simmers, sourly

Believe or not, it makes no difference

He feeds on fear, it’s his deliverance

You cannot solve this mystery

For prejudice will always be

Ingrained in soul of every freeman

Thus persecution summons demon

Don’t court him with a taunt or tease

Stay quite alert for sound of bees

And run from those with hook for hand

For likely they be Candyman…

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