Go To the Corner

go to the corner a cascade sitting in a ratty chair tattered, torn, very forlorn perfectly reflects, her child-like despair; there is no magic to repair her ‘sorrowful me’ rigid air while sitting in a ratty chair thoughts and wishes squished inside day dreams simply refuse to fly all tattered, torn, and very forlorn a sniffle, begins to grow and bloom inside her curly little dome, it perfectly reflects, her child-like despair.