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I sat beneath a three trunked tree,
Magick energy surrounding me.
A bike this stranger pedaled to a stop
He dismounted and on the ground he dropped.
He asked me for a light, and if I would want to share
A cigarette he offered as his voice stirred the air
He asked my reason for sitting there this time of day
I replied one owed me cash, and I had to stay
Till the apartment manager left to go home
As I trespassed sitting there to enjoy the oam
Waiting for a man who owed me a lot of money
That he had deceived me in falsehoods aplenty.
He saw the pentacle that sat upon my breast
Hanging from a chain that hung around my neck
He asked if I was Wiccan or a Witch to which I replied
I was on a path seeking truth, though it did coincide
With Wicca flavorings, a coven I did not seek
The path I followed was simple and unique
He then asked if when others hurt me deep
If bad things happened and times went bleak
And if I usually witnessed it though cause this I did not
They themselves were the reason trouble was wrought
That they brought the detriment onto their own soul
I was guiltless for their demise having no control
I nodded my head in affirmation as he then said
“This is why they call you Witch. This they embed
To your reputation, though you are not what they say
As they do not understand you at all or in any way."
He then stood up and into his pocket reached
Tossing a wad of something at me to keep
As I unfolded this to discover a twenty dollar bill
My eyes started to tear, upon my cheeks to spill
His pack of cigarettes, he tossed toward me
Saying I was in need so much more than he
I heard him speak as he rode away,
“Bethany was her name is what I’ll say.”
This happened to me at a crossroads in my life and changed my life forever.
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