Oh, Halloween, Suck It

What do I owe this day,

not even holiday?

The candy-ridden neighborhood

stood on black and green

with their costumes' inferiority,

and a lack of wealth inside those homes,

showed, in the lack of chocolates

I took home.

I owe this day a kick,

took six inches off each skirt

that may have made my dates

great, not the golden view

of indecency.

This day owes me a party

with kegs and fat men in togas

wearing sandals on their heads,

but--nay--, not even that,

it owes me a hand-basket

sewn and brimming sweet

that if the stumble of a drunken man

would corrupt its surface

six or seven piles of candy wrappers ricochet

onto the floor,

stay me up past two for nothing

no more!

But most of ALL,

I'm owed the night,

taken from me--

filled instead with fake frights,

stolen,

as was done to Achilles,

what betrayal, nay,

stripper of innocent feelings,

reveal yourself to me in daylight

keep your candies and your deceit,

not one can bring me back

my teeming sense of right.