A lock of hair,
from the one you love,
Stir it now,
into the pot.

A stolen piece,
of memory,
Mix it in,
soon you'll see.

Check the jars,
one by one,
Add them in,
won't this be fun.

Bubble now,
with trouble brewing,
Liquid revenge,
is gently stewing.

It won't be long,
until its ready,
And when it is,
it will be deadly.