I dreamt of a witch last night
She was like witches in stories—
ugly, with a black dress,
as black as darkness.
She looked evil, just like I’ve heard.
But then, something special happened—
I saw a light inside her heart
and heard her heart’s voice,
and it was sad, very sad
and she was tired, very tired,
her heart was broken by people.
Once she believed in justice:
if a man and woman made a mistake together,
why should only the woman suffer?
She asked for love,
She asked why people didn’t give smiles as gifts,
and she asked for freedom,
as free as a dandelion.
She wanted to respect and to be respected;
that was all she asked,
but people of the village learned to be cruel;
they couldn’t smile because they didn’t know how,
and men were the decision makers,
and of course, they loved power,
loved someone to control,
and no one better than a woman!
They couldn’t understand her;
they didn’t listen to her;
they judged her, abandoned her;
they believed she was evil because she was different.
They made her ugly with their bad thoughts
and gifted her darkness.
No one tried to see
her inner beauty;
no one saw her differently,
so they made her into a witch,
the dark witch for children’s stories—
witch to be hated for difference,
but still, she kept the light
Judy Garland and Martha Hamilton in MGM’s The Wizard of Oz.