Glenda Who?

After greeted by the Lollipop Guild

and slumbering in the Poppy Fields,

she found that they were not her friends,

the Lion, Scarecrow, and Tin Man.

The lion, he was not courageous-

Only when it’s advantageous.

The tin man never had a heart,

in fact, he tore her own apart.

He said they had them all along-

But the wizard- he was wrong.

The scarecrow, he could kiss her ass;

His head was only full of grass.

And so she left them all behind,

(and never let them cross her mind),

to find that wizard what’s-his-face

and tell him he’s commonplace-

no matter how much karat gold

he plated on his toilet bowl.

Only a complete nitwit

would need to decorate his shit.

The yellow road, all laid in brick,

was painted by a lunatic.

A wicked way so many tread,

their voices haunted in her head.

Follow the yellow brick road, they sang.

The bells they toiled, but silent rang.

“Enough!“, she screamed, and though heartfelt,

an impotence was always dealt.

As yet she doesn’t understand,

her voice, it thundered through the land.

And all the flying monkeys fell.

They smashed the rusty gates of hell.

If only she could tweet the witch

And tell her that she is

What difference would it make?

And how much can we really take?

The house an aching pile of wood-

a world that needs what we all could.

She dusted off unlike the others

One red shoe before another.