Wicked!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
a bit of wicked witchery

Submitted: May 09, 2008

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Submitted: May 09, 2008

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Toss my broom to me, Marie,
And teach me how to fly again
No longer sane to hear the voice
Of don’ts and do’s, and such taboos
A fallen bitch (or call me witch)
Some magick trick and pain no more
I sing the soul of devil’s feast
To cause at least a little trouble
Fly my bubble
Up the chimney to the sky
Paint it well, paint its back
Deadly-blue, deadly-black
Never seen such angry weeds
Let them boil, oh, make them breed
A curse that’s worse than words
That I have ever spoken
To my Johnny - rest in peace!
(Rests, indeed)
My fingers bleed to drop my spell
The cauldron’s hell too hot to tell
Do my charm I bring some harm
I keep them in my silky arm
The room is nice the cakes are sweet
Come, thee, children, come and eat
Raise my sickness to the sky
Let us fly; let us swear; let us lie; let us dare
The world still craves for
The old nightmare


© Copyright 2017 Ama. All rights reserved.

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