A little girl sat alone,
On a little leaf-covered bench.
With a little notebook in hand,
Left out of the little crowd of girls.
Simply she sat, scribbling as the sun shone,
Above her head, for writing did quench
Her thirst to talk; Writing made her grand,
A different star in the herd of girls.
Her little mates jeered at her,
“Unsocial little nerd!” they called,
“Lonely,” some pitied,
“Out of place and odd!”
The little girl said nothing,
Just pursed her lips and swallowed tears,
The wind fluttered the pages away—
But she had no fear,
Neither did she regret
To become one in many, to be different.
Written by Dragon Warrior
A dreamer who lives in her magical world of Cygnet and hovers in the Den of Dreams (http://verbalcreation.home.blog/)
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