witches in his hair

there’s witches in his hair, said the little boy. Mama, there’s witches in his hair.

that’s not a nice thing to say, sweet child, he just has a different way of doing his style.

But no, mama, there’s witches in his hair, I can seem them shouting and giving orders to his head.

Orders to the people? what are you talking about, little one? Mind your lollipop, and don’t spill your milk.

I’ll do what you say, I’ll drink my milk, but i don’t like being around that hair, can’t you see, mama, there’s witches up there?

People can’t have witches in their hair, perhaps that lollipop’s gone to your head, give it here and get back to your mathwork.

I’ll do my pluses and I’ll do my times, I’ll drink my milk, and I’ll eat my limes, but please dear mama, I’ve asked a dozen times, please don’t let those witches come near me.

Take my hand sweet child, take my hand here now, perhaps you’re a little right.

I see him better, I see his hair, and something’s not completely right.

I don’t know how witches get in people’s hair

but somethings not right with his o’er familiar stare.

thank you, mama, thank you greatly, a boy needs his ma to care

I am not yet strong, and only slightly wise, but I swear there were witches in his hair.

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