Poem -

The Fork In Hinchmen Road

The Fork In Hinchmen Road

There is a crooked fork in Hinchmen Road,
Where ghost are often present,
gathered around the beating post,
of a frightened female peasant.
Hinchmen Road is nowhere near,
any worldly destination.
One wrong turn and you'll disappear,
into a ghostly recreation.
Two centuries have nearly  passed,
since her wrongful persecution.
She walks a winding foggy path,
still seeking retribution.
When travelers reach the fork in the road,
they must choose which way to go.
one path leads to nowhere,
the other is crawling with lost souls.

When my wife and I decided to take,
a well deserved vacation.
We found ourselves traveling along,
this passage to damnation.
I almost hit the fleeing witch,
in a rented SUV.
Then an angry mob empowered by God,
was coming after me.
I''m not you but you would probably do,
the same thing that I done.
I reached in my emergency pack,
and pulled out my loaded gun.
Shots rang out,my wife freaked out,
both of us were screaming.
The mob stood in my headlights,
illumination beaming.
A decrepit old guy with a patch on one eye,
and a pitch fork in his hand,
pointed at me and shouted with glee,
"He is a warlock,get that man!"
I drove right through the glowing blue,
disgusting ghostly figure.
But I hit the ditch when that crazy witch,
appeared in my rear view mirror.
My wife and I were not badly hurt.
I had a goose egg on my head.
But the haunting visions in the dark,
made me wish that I was dead.

They tied her to the beating post,
and pelted her with stones.
They listened to her whimper,
as she hung from broken bones.
They stabbed her with their pitchforks.
Poor thing just kept on breathing.
Which added to their conviction,
with the devil she'd been dealing.
They drug her bloody body,
across the rocky ground.
Then dug a grave in the fork,
and buried her six feet down.
From horse and buggy to the cars of today,
she has hijacked weary drivers,
and brought them to the fork in the road
in hopes that they might find her.

My wife and I got on our knees,
and begged the witch for mercy.
We swore to tell her story,
despite all controversy.
Yes it's true today most would say,
I'm quite delusional.
Yet the fork in the road is one turn away,
for those who ridicule.
So if you're ever driving down,
a road you often travel,
and find yourself on an erie path,
not paved or laid with gravel,
Bare witness to great injustice,
expose the horrors that unfold.
For this is the only way to escape,
The Fork In Hinchman Road.

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