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.
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