Witch's Hat

A Witch’s hat tucked upon a shelf,
I can’t help to reach out and touch its magic
Tingling, tangling goose-bumps popping up
Making mountains on my arms
Creepy masks and costumes surround me,
Creating nausea I’m fighting back down
Pushing the fear to the top,
Sizzling its fiery callousness
Penetrating my body completely
Leaving no room for pleasant thoughts
I pulled away forgetting where I was, what’d I’d felt

A Witch’s hat tucked upon a shelf,
Without a thought I walked away
Errands to run and costumes to buy
Such as a witch for my Baby girl

A Witch’s hat tucked upon the stone
Mountainous goose-bumps push through my skin,
From the unwelcome sun beating down
Masks and costumes worn on their faces,
Hiding their sorrow and braving onward
I long for the ease in which they hide,
While my pain is pouring down my sleeve
Nausea long gone down the drain,
Caused by anxious fear and agony
That permeated within me-around me
Leaving no room for carrying on

Because I touched a Witch’s Hat,
And ignored my gut’s acidic warning
I bought a Witch’s Hat
And sentenced us to death