deepundergroundpoetry.com

Witch's Brew

A young man is crying in a park bench,
Upset because his girlfriend broke up with him,
When from behind the trees a woman appears,
Noticing that his situation is grim.

“Why do you cry?” she asks the young man,
When he looked up and saw her hideous face,
“My girl left me” he said averting his eyes,
“I don’t know what to do” he said with disgrace.

“Perhaps I can help you” the old woman said,
“See, I’m a witch and I’ve got all the potions,
Before you know it she’ll be back in your arms,
I’ll cast a spell and soon she’ll feel the emotions”.

The young man then looked at the old woman’s face,
With her stringy hair and a wart on her nose,
He shook his head but then he was desperate,
As she reeked of herbs from her tattered clothes.

“My house is not too deep into the forest”
She said as she took the young man by the hand,
“You’ll see, you’ll be able to get your wish
And everything will go according to plan”.

There was an old house hidden amidst the trees,
Upon going inside he smelled herbs and spices,
There were trinkets and bottles everywhere,
Now he was left to the witch’s devices.

There was a cauldron sitting over the fire,
The witch’s brew smelled like stew and other things,
She added strange ingredients to the mix,
Then the young man’s dreams and hopes began to spring.

She served the potion in a wooden bowl,
Walked over and said “if you eat this today…
In a week she will come back to your arms,
But for all this, there’s a price you have to pay.”

“OK” he said, “I love her, I’ll pay anything”
“Swear” she said “this will change your destiny”
“I swear” the young man said with confidence,
“Drink this and then you have to make love to me”.

The young man appalled for a second froze,
Looking at her features and her stringy hair,
Paused while staring at the wart on her nose,
When she said, “I know, the spell is not fair”.

“OK” he added, desperate and hopeless,
The young man really wanted his girlfriend back,
“But you have to make me believe I’m her,
Pretend I’m her when we’re both in the sack.”

He drank the potion and it gave him strength,
With an erection he’s never had before,
Took the old woman to bed and made love,
Pounding her for hours until she was sore.

In the afterglow of all the love making,
She is spread out au naturel in the bed,
Watching him as he frantically gets dressed,
Looking nauseated while his face is red.

“What are you looking at?” he asks curiously,
“Wondering how old you are” her tone switches,
“Twenty-six” he said when she responded...
“Aren’t you a little old to believe in witches?”
Written by wallyroo92
Published
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