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Image for the poem Ring Around The Rosie

Ring Around The Rosie

The witch who couldn’t scratch an envy itch          
She wanted to appear youthful again to feel the love of a mighty warlock to be his favorite dish            
She lit her black candles and placed them around her pentagram to conjure, in anticipation licking her lips            
Sitting upon the point her eyes fluttering close as she made her wish            
            
There came an eerie voice that spoke from the dancing fire            
Speak witch of your ultimate desires            
I want to look like the beautiful Queen without my fake mirror faces            
She is turning up in all my places            
I am the reverent one whispered by all among the town            
Yet, I do not possess her spiritual gift of the wind, her spiritual ordained power, when I babble, I echo the sentiments like a clown            
The universal does not return its favor, it does not hear the offering of my sounds            
             
Her energies astral planes the skies            
Blessed Charkas embedded in her pores roams the universal and I would like to know how, and why            
She knows too much, and I keep my mouth closed            
She knows I am the thorn hiding behind the rose            
A man under pretense at times, if you were to kiss me I will not turn into a Prince but into a poisonous ugly toad            
What can you do            
I will like her to look transfixed in my witch’s brew            
Change places to make her old and me anew            
           
My skin so ageless to look upon, I need the secrets of her vitality, make my old wrinkles disappear, body sleek to be gorgeous, alluring, all the warlocks would want to part my ivory thighs and sup            
My false teeth would be my own, when I talk, and they do not fall inside my cup            
Witch, are you sure about this            
Yes... she is a condescending Queen and a bitch, as Mother Goose me and my sheep are asking for this            
She is pretty to look at and as a Genie, I must admit, she has not asked of any favors from the summoning of my fire mist            
           
There is a price for the reversal of fortune, not even I cannot change            
Once you alter fate destiny will never be the same            
The curse cannot be broken, and you will have to live with the fame or the shame            
Do you have a mirror, witch, pin, a rose, I will need a favorite animal of this person... a dog            
“I have all”            
This is beginning of an uprise for a great fall            
The power of words is oblique in the perilous of hide and seek if you know how to use the demise of its call            
           
Ask a practicing witch            
When in the closed circle chanting in union in the nature elements on a mushroom trip            
Do you accept witch what shall be dealt            
A thousand lashes upon your life shall be felt            
The thunder, the rain, the shadows of pain            
Tears upon your heart in reminisce of this oath in the night shall remain            
Once you open your eyes            
Be care where you look the reflection you seek shall be your own demise            
           
Are you sure about this I must ask            
My wish I grant you, foresees you smelling the stench of your own trash            
Yes…now grant me my wish I have waited eternally for this gift            
Open your eyes and it shall be done            
From midnight until the rise of the sun            
The witch opened her eyes, and what do you know, the vanity in her eyes immediately sought the mirror, she forgot to drape            
The reflection of her your soul is now lashed and hellishly raped            
No mental peace            
No spiritual realm her mind to lease            
Her body aging faster than her eyes can believe            
           
Once you open your eyes            
Be care where you look the reflection you seek shall be your own demise
           
           
Always be careful about what you wish for if it is not to uplift, help, aid, or assist            
The wind hears the cries of fate and has a way of making you taste your own shit            
           
Poem based upon the Nursey Rhyme, Ring Around the Rosie            
           
#DarkNurseryRhymes
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Published
Author's Note
When karma lands, it lands hard.

Tom Fitton
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