The Last Trip (22)

So I woke up in the hospital
Lucky for me, a conductor, seeing the fume,
Broke the door down, let in some air.
Somehow I wish he hadn't
For I was already getting to feel comfortable
On the other side
In hell where all the fun is.
But I was back on earth
With the real hell created for me
By Greta
Or rather the hell I created for her
By being sich a lousy schmuck.
So what if by mistake I poisoned
Her fat black cat?
Sorry, but the poison was for the rat.
My fault if the  cat at her shack
Was first to get to the snack?
My fault if she invited me over?
So she threw a couple of spells
My fault if  we smoked a little bit of weed
And drank one of her brews?
Something mixed with turnip seeds?
My fault if robes and clothes got loose
To the point at which ''Miss Frosty''
Melted by her hot  cauldron
Her broom caught fire
And so did she?
My fault, yes, if  as a result
Some of her world views changed
So it is me for this she blames
Because some of the spells worked
But not as she wished
And not on me.
Above all, she hates me for killing
Her ugly black cat. ''Her child'' she calls it.
So now she has me in her visor.
 A tit for a tat.
The war is on.