The witch broods
In the middle of her self-centred, self-limiting
Tangled web of lies, half-truths and self-deception;
Ventures forth only to capture and envenom the unwary, the unknowing.
Their minds ingested by the witch,
Her progeny, indulged in baubles, chocolate and late-night television
Are ever by the maternal sac
Imbibing further indoctrination and instruction.
The witch, the witch, the witch.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem