It was Halloween night
and there were large gaps of
darkness between the lights
of the decked-out houses,
and some of the gaps were
even wider
due to people slipping away
from such a juvenile holiday.
I joined the kids who
dressed as their dreams
and I claimed to be on their team
of youth.
But, oh, what a walking
contradiction I was,
sitting on curbs
and smoking cigarettes
between the houses I was hitting;
with my cherry burning quietly,
these children gawked at me
as their skips slowed to saunters.
I couldn’t help but to think
I was luring them in with
an unbreakable link.
Have I gone mad?
I peered at their innocence
from beneath a black top hat
and from behind
a heavy disguise
that revealed nothing
but my piercing eyes.
Involuntarily I was
guiding those clueless children,
screaming, “This way! That way!”
as clouds of smoke
dripped up from my lips.
Leading them to paths
of guilt and bad habits;
practically pushing them
to chase late rabbits.
And I will question myself
once again…
Have I gone mad?
It’s a subconscious
envy of the innocence I once had;
my childish ways have become
an obvious fad.
I have gone mad.