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Wicked Witch
May 17, 2011
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.
© Emma J., Tuck, GA
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