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Early, infantile.

the a word.

By Katie woodsPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 1 min read
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Early, infantile.
Photo by Andy Li on Unsplash

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.

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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.

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