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Robert L. Martin

The Richest Witches

Richest witches flying high
in Lamborghinis and see through bikinis,
no brooms, balloons, nor sober baboons,
it’s party party in the skyward lagoons.
 
Music blasting and strobe lights flashing,
Halloween bashing and glasses smashing,
richest witches and bitches dashing,
passing in front of the big moon passing.
 
From rags to riches come richest witches
from bloomer brooms to upscale switches,
flying high in the midnight sky,
drunk as a skunk in the twilight eye.
 
Richest witches in Lamborghini heaven,
counting their money at ten times seven,
chauffeurs driving in the midnight run,
ton of fun run ‘til the sun come done.
 
Richest witches flying high
looking down at the poorest guy,
laughing at the outdated brooms,
the black hats and the mixing spoons.
No more hexing by magic spells.
Hexing of today by computer bells.
 
Witches of the now,
and witches of the future.

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