Don't crush her
fairy's wings
Hold her gently
in your hand
Help her to
feel tall again
None of this
was planned
She's too small
for the pen
Can't write
her story down
Too small for the pen
Can't bring
her mind around
She's wilting
in the corner
No one to
help her stand
Help her to
feel tall again
None of this
was planned
Her silver shell
is cracking
Naive beyond belief
She's not as lithesome
as she'd like
Keeps glimpses
of herself brief
No junebugs
can reach her here
To sweep her into
an unknown land
And spirit her away
to a lonely bloom
No none of this
was planned
She can question
why she was born
this small
But of course
there is no one
to answer her call