The curved nose of the witch told me
To despise myself
Hate the image reflected back
Across the span of time
The body concurred.
Turned on itself.
And stabbed inward.
Tales told from the lips of fairies
Pull the thread through eons
Scraping ethereal walls for flecks of gold
To deliver
Nourishment
To weary souls.
Echoes cackle to remind
The movement of time
Through regal halls
Of the importance
Of the meek.
©Jen2010 8–23









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You know better than to listen to a witch! Especially one with a curved nose. Not sure bout the faeries.
It all comes with living the fairy tale.. LOL