The Salem Witch Trials

I wasn't a witch,

but that's what they said, 
I'm a danger to them, 
off with my head. 
Is it true, 
that I deserved to die? 
Was I witch? 
No, it was a lie. 
All I could do was cry 
that I wasn't a witch, 
but they wouldn't believe me.
I could've screamed, pleaded, begged 
but they wouldn't see, 
I wasn't a witch,
I won't ever be.
"She's a witch!" 
No, I'm not,
But maybe I am.
"She's practicing witchcraft"
No, I'm not,
But maybe I can,
And maybe I will.
If I was as powerful as they accused me of being,
why weren't they fleeing until the accusation?
"Kill me, go ahead, off with my head, but you will all pay!" 
I was a witch, yes, and they saw the powers built deep within me.
I was a witch, wasn't I supposed to be?
Yes, they all listened to me,
coo and cackle, 
they locked me in shackles, 
but they could never control my rage.
I was a witch, wasn't I?
(this isn't very good, but at least I try.)
This poem is about: 
Our world


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