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Believe it or not

Up in the mountains of dead whispers lies a witch’s lair

Cauldron full of troubles, a bubbling affair

Rise Rise Oh Demon she would chuckle and say

And slowly the night would eat up the days

Oh the evils of magic in wrong hands

Even the strongest of will slipped out of grip like sand

But once in those times even after playing her best game

Witch failed miserably and put her whole
clan to shame 

For she could not harm a heart warm and kind

And a potion to dismiss the good, the witch could not find

 Witch struggled, screamed and added all that she had in her evil pot

But in hatred and rage, her cause lost the plot

Witch blamed the potion, the cauldron and in
her anger broke it

Others of her clan gasped in horror as she
rampaged her valuables in fit

Every witch has a special cauldron it’s

And once broken or lost all her special
powers are gone

But that was not all; everything in the broken
cauldron  was cursed

And humans who come across those things
face the worst

Do you not hear the scream sometimes in
middle of the night, Or a footfall in the dark?

That’s the witch looking for ways to get
back her powers like a killer shark

First to be cursed were the Fridays on the thirteen

Some you will be turned into witches slave, a slimy green

All the thirteen things cursed are coming your way

Hope you all read these and save your day

The black cat crossing your way is just a sign

Cross the path and end up in the cauldron full of brine

 For every odd sneeze before you go out

Your pretty little nose will turn into a pig’s snout

For every mirror that cracks or glasses you break

Get stalked for seven years by spiders and snakes

If a lizard falls on your head in the morning

Your waist will add another tire without a warning

Spilling salt is pure bad luck

Spend rest of the year a sitting duck

And if you happen to walk under the ladder

You will have a whole day with a weak bladder

If a bird uses your hair as a part of her nest

You are sure to fail your driving test

And opening umbrella inside the house

Calls for three days of nagging by your spouse

 If a crow ever flies across your path

You are going to forget even the basic math

A bride should avoid the colour green

It’s a witch’s colour she sure will get a mom in law really mean

If you ever sweep dirt out of your door

You will be chased by a wild boar

In the cauldron was the witch’s favourite a frog

And if you ever kill one, you will in your next life be born as a tick on a dog

 And of course how can we forget the human tongue in the witches stew

A slip here or there or let it rule, oh! The trouble it brews

Witch and her broom go swish swash zoom

Collecting the snakes and newts to decorate her room

She has been wandering for centuries now to get all the ingredients back

And she needs a thousand people more to err to fill her sack

Some call these superstitions but these are as true as the earth being round

And those who ridicule these will end up on the witches ground

About Soma Mukherjee

I often say things that put me in a jam, Jams go well with Buttered Toasts, Toasts are great hosts, Ghosts not so much, Although they can dance, Not all dancers are serial killers, Serial killers do not use Body bags that often, body bags aren't leak proof, Proof is in the Pudding.

6 responses »

  1. nirbhayasindia

    I am your fan.

  2. You are top of my list of happy humour makers. How come I didn’t discover you before? And here I thought Detective Morchi Wallah was funny!

  3. Kuljeet Kwatra

    amazing imagination. how young were u when u wrote this? i havent been able to flow freely like this since i was 27 or so!!! bless u!! u have reminded me how simply beautiful and unrestricted by rules poetry can truly be!

    • Trust me ( or believe me or not ) This has been written by a 37 year old…
      yup i am that crazy 😆
      i almost didnt post it cos it was really insane but then most of my thoughts dont make any sense so ….
      Thank you so much Kuljeet 🙂

  4. Terrific.Innovative.Humorous.


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