I saw them cry.
it was haunting.
they hung from nooses.
and their death was taunting.
from the superstitious mind readers.
to the falsehood mind feeders.
it wasn't meant to be.
their lives so innocent.
their truth so pure.
what brilliant superstition can endure.
the burning at the steaks.
the people's heart breaks.
it wasn't meant to be.
it just wasn't meant to be.
i look into your eyes,
all i see is your innocent guise.
these deaths weren't mneean to be.
i just can't take it.
what superstition can do, and how people can be so cruel.
their first instinct, can make a life really distinct.
this wasn't mean to be, it just wasn't meant to be.

* this poem is the insight of the Salem Witch trials.
 
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