Prompt: Write a poem about something mysterious and spooky
I was seven,
My cousin and I were convinced that in the depths of the parking lot
Lived a scary old witch, boiling cauldron awaiting us.
This was partly because overnight, a drawing of a terrifying woman showed up on the entrance walls,
Partly because the guard told us stories what no child should hear.
In our own little Ghostbusters way,
We tried to come up with ways to scare her away -
And protect our families from her wrath.
We tried fart bombs, boomerangs, mirror reflections,
We even left her messages in scribbles and drawings to stay away,
But to no avail.
It was some time around this unprecedented witch hunt
That the scratches started showing up.
The first day, we saw them on the walls leading all the way down to the desolate lot.
"It's all in your head," Ma told us off.
The next day, I started feeling an itch on my scalp.
"It's probably just lice," said Ma.
On the third day, I showed her the bloody scratches across my arm and back.
"This doesn't make any sense at all," she gasped.
Eventually, the bleeding stopped.
The witch's warning heeded,
We stopped our supernatural investigations,
And focused on school instead.
Even now, two decades later
I sometimes wake up at 3am, fresh scratches on my face and arms,
My therapist says it's probably just a panic attack -
But I know better than to believe that.
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