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The Night People

The sky gets dark
The people come out;
If you can call them people at all.

They thrive off the night,
They thrive off the blood of those they find.

They move along so silently,
But who they are is a mystery,
For all anyone knows
Is that there are animals that come out at night
And attack at any chance they get.

I move along watching them carefully,
wishing I was one of them,
But who knows what will happen at night;
Maybe my wish will be fulfilled.

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