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21 lines: A poem |
| Not long ago I crossed a black cat And all my hair I did lose Until I gave her a mouse to bat Now even worse I have killed a witch A black, foul fate I did not choose When I fell upon her in a ditch A dozen sisters who shared her craft Enrobed in blacks, grays and blues They flew to me upon brooms and laughed Chanting, twirling, in circles smirking Dark unseen power did ooze It grabbed my soul and I felt jerking Bursting with hair and a long thin tail I sprung away from my shoes A glance at my paw brought forth a wail Coven's wrath is far worse than black cat's Magic turned back time from clues Dropping me in my own trap and that's Now history I cannot rewrite Trembling to a beastly snooze Squeaking my last to a feline bite
Day 2 - Prompt: Witchcraft! but, DON't use the word spell |