Early, infantile.
the a word.
Banish us, good townsfolk
Erase us from your, prophecies
Takes us to church and,
Make the devil weep
We are not many, but
We are not new
The devil was a girl named Susan
The devil wouldn’t look me in the eyes
They said
Burn her, shock her, tie her to the ship mast
We will, make her, exorcised,
At last
Find me a cure, for my mind
Make it pure, cause we’re running out of time
Fill us full of toxin
There’s plastic in the water
Clustered in silicon
Better not come down to Leominster
They’ll find us, shudder
Close your shutters
This one’s a retard, child schizophrenic
Better send them down to Bettelhiem
He’ll fix your mind
Tell us more of those, pretty little lies
Sing us to sleep and shut your eyes
This bad weather brings pneumonia
Starve the children, leave them outside
Mommy took a survey and Susan died
We are not many, but
We are not new
We all got better
Or infected the world
The witches broke their fetters
That's what I’ve been told.
About the Creator
Katie woods
Katie is a slime mold hunter that likes to watch people and write stories. She's been autistic every since receiving a radioactive vaccine as a child.
That was a joke. She is joking.
That's how she got superpowers.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.