Salem Witch Trials

A Dark barked locus tree
Hangs over those accused of witchery
Casting eerie shadows on the graves
The names carved into the marble where of the brave,
The year was sixteen sixty two
There wasn’t much the convicted could do
They had the purest soul
Being truthful was their goal
For of this they were hung
Across Salem the news rung
Overall there is twenty four dead
For this we ought to bow our head.