Old Witch
Figurines fall from the shelf,
Death to the elf,
Puppets are sawdust once more,
Crushed on the floor.
Soldiers of Old Witch arrive,
Nothing’s alive,
Nothing but troops come to scorch
Toys with their torch.
Doll’s house is wantonly burned
Tea-tables turned
Over and everything’s spilled:
Rocking-horse killed.
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2009
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