The Witch (ha)
Witch
Amber and Orange trailing from my temples
Down unto my shoulders they persist
Along these weak branches they trail
Down to my fingers
Glowing
Burning
Scorching these scribbling roots, these fingers
They morphe
Ink staining the crisp paper
Sorceress of Rage
Of despair
They are spawns of me
Poetry
The expression of me
This poem is about:
Me