The Wonderful Wizard of Oz?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I watched the new Oz movie Saturday night in the theater and it was spectacular; as I knew it would be. I loved it, however I overheard some opinions as it was finishing that seemed to disapprove; comments so obtrusive and absurd, I wondered if we even just watched the same movie. Anyway, sorry to rant, and now that I got that off my chest. I loved it so much, I knew before I even watched it that I'd be writing this poem,that it'd inspired me to write this little ditty. I do hope everyone likes this. Enjoy!

Submitted: March 13, 2013

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Submitted: March 13, 2013



I am a fraud.

A wizard, I am not.

Magical charms?

I couldn't charm the pants off anything; save for a beautiful young woman.

Oddly enough, it was the beautiful young woman who saved me.

Saved me from myself.

Saved me from the world.

Saved my heart and everlasting soul.

Though it was another young woman who saved me from the water, as well as the River Fairies.

Nasty little buggers, I remember...

Something odd about this young miss.

Something odd about this whole place.

This whole world.

The queerest fact; it shares a name with myself.

The land of Oz.

Full of odd beings. The queerest being a flying monkey in a bellhop suit - yes, a bellhop suit - and a little girl made of china; whose family and entire village were smashed to smithereens. My ingenuity shines bright, once again.

They accompany me, desperately clinging to my sides.

On the search for another; a witch.

A wicked witch.

THE wicked witch.

The Wicked Witch of the West.

And it's the young misses sister.

Sent to kill the witch; but a lady, she still is.

Sent to kill a lady.

Witch or not, I don't know?

How does one kill a witch?

Simple, they say. Destroy the object of her power.

A wizard could kill the witch!

How does one kill the witch when a wizard, he is the furthest thing from?

It can be true enough - anything can be - if you believe enough in yourself to make the world believe in you, she said.

But a wizard, I am not.

Off to see the witch.

The wicked witch of Oz.

Dodging lions, baboons, and raging forget-me-nots!

Some with viscious claws.

What am I ever to do?

I feel like running; running somehow, all the way back to Kansas.

But all I can do is go forward. Along the Yellow Brick Road.

Looking into the eyes of a pair of talking misfits: Flying monkey and little China doll,

Off to kill the Wicked Witch.

Kill the witch, and save the Land of Oz.

I don't know? Why do I feel like:

The Wonderful Wizard of Noz!

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