Wicked Witch

May 17, 2011
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As the door opens a chilling breeze rolls in,
Hairs stand up upon my skin,

Rain still dripping from my hair,
Mistress three gives me a stare,

Quickly run up to my room,
As the wicked witch leaves on her broom,

Clutter frustrates me so I leave again,
To the field where it is zen.

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