They say the woods are evil, but I go there anyway

At young age
I wandered into the wood
to find my slice
of enchantment

with each step
the sky went bleak
unafraid, I paced
to her castle

one knock
two knocks
three knocks
on the hollow door

like the cowardly
lion
I went still
as the door pulled

the land shifted

unbelievable
what I did see
a benevolent witch
posed before me

no wart?
pointed hat?
striped stockings?
or evil sneer?

It was misleading.

what kind of witch
is golden
when expected to be
sinister?

what kind of witch
smiles
when gossiped to have
no teeth?

awkwardly silent
inside my head

what kind of person
am i
for believing
stories?

she was pleasant, beautiful
not vile, haggard

was this common trend?

we judge
when our intentions are
infernal
harmful
and unworthy
for praise

Still, we praise
and we praise
and we pray
for our sins.

She pat my head
with sincerity
shut the door
and parted with a smile