Itch Witch Poem by chris dawson

What causes an itch,

some far distant witch

with miniscule spells to annoy?

What pleasure she gains,

as she thinks on our pains,

when the prickles n tickles deploy?





Is there point, rhyme or reason

to feel like you've fleas on

your calf or the small of your back?

And why is she so mean,

as she hatches her scheme,

In conniving the point of attack?






Hell, the very thought

can make one quite fraught

and inspire so much of the same.

It's so very absurd

that the sight of the word

can kick off the itch n scratch game.






Have you started yet?

You'll start soon I bet,

as the theme of this writing takes hold.

Then you will soon see

that it's no fantasy,

with the evidence there to behold.






So doubt me no more,

you cannot now ignore,

that an itch serves no purpose or use.

Therefore it has to be,

and you have to agree,

that it must be some form of abuse.






Now if you've a suggestion

that answers the question,

thus puts my reasoned theory to bed.

Then make it known please,

should you have expertise,

I'll buy that explanation instead.






But until such times

I'll stick with what rhymes

when deciding what causes an itch.

Then, just as I've written,

don't think you've been bitten,

but blame your distress on the Witch!