The Three Hags

They sit on porches made of spite,

Knitting curses late at night.

Eyes like rusted razor blades,

Tongues that hiss and never fade.

They watch your lawn, they count your sins,

They know the trash you toss at 10.

Three shadows in orthopedic shoes,

Plotting doom with bingo blues.

The Three Hags, they never sleep—

Whispering secrets they’ll never keep.

They’ll hex your dog, they’ll shame your kid,

They’ll judge the way your curtains sit.

The Three Hags, queens of dread,

Feeding on gossip, tea, and meds.

You’ll never win, you’ll never hide—

They’re always watching from inside.

One’s got a cane with a hidden blade,

One brews coffee laced with shade.

One’s got binoculars and rage,

She writes your sins on every page.

They smile like broken marionettes,

Their garden gnomes are government pets.

They curse your Wi-Fi, steal your mail,

And laugh when your Amazon fails.

They were young once, sweet and kind—

'Til bitterness rewired their minds.

Now they rule the cul-de-sac,

With evil cookies and heart attacks.

The Three Hags, they never die—

Just change their wigs and multiply.

They’ll haunt your dreams, they’ll salt your pride,

They’re always lurking, side by side.

The Three Hags, the neighborhood plague—

Wrapped in pearls and twisted legs.

You’ll never win, you’ll never hide—

They’re always watching from inside.

So lock your doors and dim the light,

The hags are coming out tonight.