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Poem

This is the story better not told,
as it is too rancid and old,

In the town of motorina,
there lived a folk girl called georgina.

She was fat and ugly,
without company seen only singly.

She was obese and poor,
had to withstand villagers' jeers and boors.

No parents she had had,
Both were reported to be long dead.

No siblings grew by her side,
She had a lonesome life to abide.

She worked odds and lots,
so she could eat and add to her fat.

Of her odds at baker's was most,
after she had worked he reported all lost.

It is at baker's that this story began,
one day he caught her and she began the ran.

As the village watched her panting ahead,
the baker in pursuit almost head to head.

She was a good ten feet ahead,
The baker pursued thinking fat would be soon dead.

Georgina had other plans,
Fear had caught her headlong.

Her fat had energised in legs,
she was running in long dregs.

baker lost the ground,
and soon lost her sight and sound.

Georgina continued to run for long,
taking not a straight but a path oblong.

She reached dense forest,
dark in day time as if a closed closet.

She now sighted and looked back,
stopped finding that the baker had long packed.

Now another fear took her on,
she knew forest had animals feeding on human carrion.

She cringed under a grandparent tree,
recovering breath and feeling free.

She sat down,
and pulled her half torn gown.

Thirst,hunger and fear hung in dark,
even as she heard sparrows hark.

She opened her troubled eyes,
taking deep breaths and sighs.

Looking for water and food,
she after all got up and stood.

With careful steps she gingered along,
as she hardened and felt strong.

(To be continued)

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