They say that prison – for me – best place...
Thay call me names – “this damned witch” –
Behind my back, but seldom – in my face...
They often rant, you’ll hear their speech...
Existence my – for them – the worst offense...
As beauty, fortune, humor, wit...
So easy find culprit... It makes sense –
Won’t look elsewhere... Just a bit
It’s scary... Future may be so grim...
Inquest, process and – sure – fire...
All this – for me... What for? A whim,
Some joke and revenge – for his desire...
Tap in my door... Adios, adios, my dream...
My hopes are bleak and situation – dire...
But past – so bright... Chance to escape – so slim...
I’ll stake my life for freedom or expire...
Damned witch
© Copyright: Галина Киселёва, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107042300269
Свидетельство о публикации №107042300269
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