POEM: So congratualtions you have magic.
A wonderful luminescent light,
But head this little witch,
The hunters have dogs, yet you are the bitch.
Be careful if your parents are religious,
They will persecute and burn you as wrong,
As crumpled wrecked paper,Â
Because you are not a person, persons aren’t wrong.
Be careful if your parents are scientific,
They will study and research, and poke and prod,
Because you are unknown, and you have magic,
Be careful if your parents are teachers,
They will lecture and run and write until your fingers are stained in ink,
Until your hands are burned by paper and wood you wield.
Because you are unlearned, and you have magic
Be careful if your parents are kind,
They will hug and love and treat you as a shinning jewel,Â
Until they say the wrong acknowledgment and you were the fool,
How could you ever be anything else,
Limits to parents and those that raised you,
Beyond them, beyond you, beyond reason and beyond fear,
There is no one quite like you, and that luminescence grew,
Then like the rush of lightning and fire…
You learnt quickly of the witch trials,
You learnt quickly of the shunning of salts and sage,
You learnt quickly what it means to have magic.
Your gender a witch, or wizard
You match and pair perfectly with other of your kind.
You are not to have magic,
That magic that burns in you bright and beautiful,
It blurs of colours grey and black,Â
Were they once greater? or should they cease to be?
Or was it all some cruel joke my mind played to me,
A game to juggle and jump,
Through hoops higher than the sky,
Above what a cow could reach above the moon,
But you are not a cow, you are different from a cow,
For they could circle the moon, glimpse upon a catch of starlight,
And you here on the ground.
So blend, be less than you are because you are nothing without magic,Â
You cannot see the magic that others hold,
They sing the praises and acceptance in love,
WHILST THE STAKE BURNS BEYOND YOUR EYES,
Yet you held the flame, you did not lower it or light it,Â
Or perhaps you did you cant recall the lights are all grey now,
And they keep jumping black,
But you cannot jump back,
The attack is coming from all sides,
Mum and dad told you be good,
Your friends tell you they are right,
They never said it point blank,Â
for the truth isn’t a gun,Â
its not a weapon to be held,
That our gods of magic and mystery are shackled to the floor,
But if you really loved magic you would let it go, after all that’s what any good person would do,
Or so you presume, you have never been person, you are a bitch on the ground, below the moon,
You are never to be seen or shown or displayed,Â
For you have not met gods of magic and light,Â
They are mystery beyond sight.
You do not believe the promises beyond the pyre,
You do not know much more than eyre.
You could not magic and that’s alright with you,
You are not meant to be magic,
Nobody is meant to magic,
It is devils work and devils play,
And in the devil it shall stay,
You let it go once more tonight,
You let it go it was such a fright,
It shrieked and screamed more than any fire,
It ran and burned against your skin higher-
Than anything you’d ever seen,
And it was not grey or light or magic,
So congratulations you have magic.
Let it burn to nothing, not even ashes.
They will not see it or if they do. The next on the pyre is you.