AN: Written for Black Boxed's poetry challenge (hopefully I left out all the e's this time)
Mudblood Satisfaction
locks of auburn hair surround Dorcas
a scissor's snip and a ninth curl falls
a natural way of haircutting
as no magic's stuck in this building
only aching shards of mudblood satisfaction
and a bright, unfamiliar imp rising from a mountain of ash
driving a crimson car and losing a broomstick
ignoring a jinx and shooting a handgun.