This is how my Halloween night went. I put some flair in it.
Twas the eve of All Hallows, and all through the square,
Two lads did prepare themselves, with costumes quite rare.
I donned the attire of the noble Count Dracula,
Cloak sweeping the floor, with a visage most macabre-a.
My companion, alas, was attired most plain,
A simple tank top, stitches drawn on his face like a stain.
Yet, somehow, the fates had conspired that this night,
He would capture the hearts of all maidens in sight.
We ventured together, our footsteps quite steady,
Expecting perhaps some mild recognition, at ready.
Yet as we approached the line, to our mutual surprise,
The young ladies did gather ‘round him with wide, sparkling eyes.
“Instagram?” they chirped, “Do tell us your name!”
And I, noble Count Dracula, was met with no acclaim.
No glance, no nod, not a whisper, not a cheer,
As though I were naught but thin air standing near.
Once inside the hall, I unleashed my best moves,
My feet spinning, my hips swaying with dazzling grooves.
Yet still, the fair maidens pressed near him, not me,
Their laughter and whispers like a mocking decree.
One beauty, with eyes like the summer’s own dawn,
Did stroke his arm, her charm fully drawn.
But my companion recoiled, with a grimace and dash,
Fleeing her touch in a comical flash.
Another, whose allure would make a poet faint,
Was ignored by him; to her, he gave not constraint.
I inquired, “Why, good sir, do you not take her hand?”
“Because she’s chopped!” he replied, with laughter so grand.
A lady in blue, a most diligent cop,
Did handcuff him tight, then begged he not stop.
A maiden in red, hooded and fair,
Did press her lips to his, as if no other were there.
Then chaos erupted! His ex, eyes aflame,
Witnessed the kiss, and called out his name.
She pleaded, she begged, her voice sharp as a knife,
But he shoved her aside and laughed at her strife.
All through the night, the young ladies did swarm,
Around my friend, who bore no particular charm.
Meanwhile, I—dracula, with elegance and flair—
Was scolded by maidens for brushing their winged air.
So ended the eve, cruel fate’s wicked delight,
Where I, noble Count Dracula, vanished from sight.
And he, in his tank top, stitched grin wide and free,
Was the undisputed king of Halloween glee.
Brutal
Twas the eve of All Hallows, and all through the square,
Two lads did prepare themselves, with costumes quite rare.
I donned the attire of the noble Count Dracula,
Cloak sweeping the floor, with a visage most macabre-a.
My companion, alas, was attired most plain,
A simple tank top, stitches drawn on his face like a stain.
Yet, somehow, the fates had conspired that this night,
He would capture the hearts of all maidens in sight.
We ventured together, our footsteps quite steady,
Expecting perhaps some mild recognition, at ready.
Yet as we approached the line, to our mutual surprise,
The young ladies did gather ‘round him with wide, sparkling eyes.
“Instagram?” they chirped, “Do tell us your name!”
And I, noble Count Dracula, was met with no acclaim.
No glance, no nod, not a whisper, not a cheer,
As though I were naught but thin air standing near.
Once inside the hall, I unleashed my best moves,
My feet spinning, my hips swaying with dazzling grooves.
Yet still, the fair maidens pressed near him, not me,
Their laughter and whispers like a mocking decree.
One beauty, with eyes like the summer’s own dawn,
Did stroke his arm, her charm fully drawn.
But my companion recoiled, with a grimace and dash,
Fleeing her touch in a comical flash.
Another, whose allure would make a poet faint,
Was ignored by him; to her, he gave not constraint.
I inquired, “Why, good sir, do you not take her hand?”
“Because she’s chopped!” he replied, with laughter so grand.
A lady in blue, a most diligent cop,
Did handcuff him tight, then begged he not stop.
A maiden in red, hooded and fair,
Did press her lips to his, as if no other were there.
Then chaos erupted! His ex, eyes aflame,
Witnessed the kiss, and called out his name.
She pleaded, she begged, her voice sharp as a knife,
But he shoved her aside and laughed at her strife.
All through the night, the young ladies did swarm,
Around my friend, who bore no particular charm.
Meanwhile, I—dracula, with elegance and flair—
Was scolded by maidens for brushing their winged air.
So ended the eve, cruel fate’s wicked delight,
Where I, noble Count Dracula, vanished from sight.
And he, in his tank top, stitched grin wide and free,
Was the undisputed king of Halloween glee.
Brutal
