My Own Creation

My glasses were steamed
And my hands sweated
In my gloves
But I did not care

I was on the Prowl

My head dressed in
Pumpkin mask
My body
Disguised in a long coat

Though alarming and strange
I did not care to dress flashy

It’s useless on cool nights

My company passed cars
And knocked on doors for sugar
Pleading for our
Feet to be smelled
(Though that wish never comes true)

I heard a young man accuse me
As a male
He of quick judgement
It cracked a smile

When we returned
With our treasures
My head smelled of rubber
And breath
The sound of crackling wrappers
Was followed by the
Taste of sweets

I was proud of my Hunt

It was a Success

As I am a Monster
Of My Own Creation