October 18, 2011
Your heart is white with absence
No original thought goes through your head
A failure of personality hence,
Such as a tear has never been shed
You don’t move from your opinions
No speck of dirt on your colorless dress
A porcelain face seems to withhold your poisons.
At night, running barefoot in your nightdress,
A mob of angry Christians run along.
There will, indeed, be a hanging tonight.
It was too bad the witch is headstrong,
Crying, she said ‘I love God’ in fright.
They found her guilty. Thank God, you say.
Hell is waiting for you, while you accuse away.

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Orange_Penguin This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Oct. 25, 2011 at 11:00 am

I LOVE THIS POEM!!! You Salem Witch obsessor!! ;)


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