Life As a Teenage Witch
I never asked for this gig, she reminded them.
Her father was apologetic, but wizards are weak.
Her mother rolled her eyes at the weakness of him.
You will see, she told her daughter, there are those who seek.
We are mystical beings, and we have souls of gold.
We can fly into the night, and it never grows old.
You are lucky to be a witch like me, her mother said.
What about her auntie? Her husband asked. Isn’t she dead?
Your aunt never fully embraced the magical life.
She got wrapped up in drugs that took over her strife.
You will be like me her mother told her daughter.
Her wizard father kept his eye on his glass of water.
The teenage witch was not sure what her mother meant.
She was tired of being different, not feeling heaven-sent.
Her father pattered away, down the hall, and went to bed.
The teenager took off on a broom, and her soul was fed!
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