WHY I WRITE A POEM A DAY

Most children carry around
an awkward bag
of people’s expectations.

Who they are,
what they should look like,
whether they’re scary
or sweet.

Except for today,
when they get to turn it
upside down
and empty it out.

They get to dress up
in costumes
and roam the streets
being anything
they’re not.

Zombies,
princesses
or the immature yet charming guy
from the sitcom he likes.

Let them all come to your door.

You will see
that they still carry a bag
but it’s not a vessel
for anything but your delight,
and a small tax
we pay in candy
for all the ways
on all the other days
that grown-ups
ask them to be.