PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A scared little girl locked up in a dark garden shed,

Cries in the corner with her legs tucked right up to her head,

She rocks herself gently to mimick being cuddled,

Tighter and tighter she becomes huddled,

Into a ball feeling more and more small,

She wonders what she did to get here at all,

Why wasn't she loved like other little girls?

Her Daddy said he loved her more than the world,

She knew that he did - deep, deep down,

But when she was around she wore the crown,

She was the Queen of their house,

The Wicked Witch of the West,

This little Broken Fairy,

Always ended up being second best,

She looked up at the window of the shed she was in,

But couldn't see the outside so she stood on the bin,

That was placed in the corner of the dusty shed,

A huge spider fell from the ceiling,

Landed on her head.

The little girl wasn't afraid of the tiny bug,

Fear of spiders was nothing when you've never had a hug,

When you're brought up to be tough and feel no pain,

No wonder this little girl ended up so insane.

She placed the tiny spider down on the side,

And stood up tall as she could to see the outside,

It had become very dark since she had been locked in,

It was starting to smell because of this bin,

But as she gazed out of the window at the coming night's sky,

She saw a beautiful star go shooting by,

Was this it?

The star upon to wish?

She crosses her fingers and tightly closes her eyes,

Eagerly awaiting an answer from the skies.

'But wait,' thought the girl, 'what if another child,

is wishing on this star, too?

What if their wish is more needed than mine?

I've got a brother, a father and a witch afterall,

I've got a house over my head,

Some don't have that at all.

I won't wish today,

I'll let some other child be blessed,

I'll be out of here soon anyway,

When Daddy's home... I guess'.

So the little girl gave up her wish on that star,

In hope that somebody somewhere, somewhere afar,

Would have seen it, too, and eagerly wished,

And have it granted and be happy and not have their dreams squished.

So the little girl climbs back down,

From the dusty bin and starry sky,

Sits back in the corner and again starts to cry...

She was let out again,

The very next day,

But still she remains broken,

Waiting for the next star to come to play...