I always loved this time of year.
We can dress the way we want,
And paint our faces and skin
In a wide array of colors
And best of all;
We won't be juged.
On this night
We can roam the streets.
We can yall and scream.
We can laugh so hard that
We start to cry.
When we see something normal,
We look confused as to what it is.
We'll dance around
From house to house,
Saying the magic words
And watching the magic fall
Into our containers.
At the end of the night,
When we see Dawn's first light,
We'll return to our houses
And wash off the paint,
And change from the clothes
That made us feel special.
Then we'll crawl into bed
And go to sleep,
The magic as proof that the night existed.
-by my good friend Nayelle