My brow is furrowed, my lips are pursed.
What's troubling me? I am cursed.
It's been this way for quite some time.
Will it last my whole lifetime?
Every time the moon is full,
I feel the change, I feel the pull.
Slowly I start to transform-
It has become my dreaded norm.
My teeth grow sharp, my hair grows long.
The urge to howl becomes strong.
Eventually I'm on all fours,
My claws click-clacking on the floor.
My hearing becomes more acute.
I engage in late, midnight pursuits.
My eyes begin to glow bright red,
Within my newly furry head.
I twitch and shake my brand new tail.
I start to growl and start to wail.
I feel the need to go outside
And let the moonlight be my guide.
I slink behind a group of trees,
Scent of trick-or-treaters on the breeze.
I see them and I start to stalk
My targets down the busy block.
Behind them I discreetly creep
Until they're alone-and then I leap!
Biting the air, I snarl and growl-
But laughter is all I hear them howl.
Cracking up, they gasp for air-
There are no loud cries of despair.
I run off fast, in leaps and bounds,
While they roll with laughter on the ground.
Now you understand my curse.
Trust me it doesn't get much worse.
It's sad, embarrassing, and no fun.
A Were-Chihuahua scares no one.
