Wee Willie Winkie

Wee Willie winkie runs through the town

Doused in vermillion in his tattered gown

Prying through the townscape, angels of death

Seek to vaporise Willie’s breath.

Loathed for being a son of a witch

His heart was arrowed by abuses,

Thought he was the society’s glitch

Sprinted while stealing some roses.

Pursued by skinhounds to the town’s end

Who,to spare his life, asked Willie to bend

Surviving until now was a task so daunt

As ghosts of past rose upto to haunt.

Wee Willie Winkie snuck around the town

Towards the meadow where the trees crown

Put the roses near the engrave,

And slept forever near his mother’s grave