A CREDULOUS CREATION

 

                              
                                                                                        
 
 
As the train left,she capered in.
Along arrived her mother and her tiny-tot carrying a tin,
Everyone stared at them,like someone who committed a sin,
Unaware of her gift as a muffin,

Brawny was her face,sans any beauty,
Sullied were tresses,sans any swirls.
Torn was her gown,sans any trim.
So fledgling was she,sans any fantasies.

To and fro,she squashed herself in a ring.
Badgered her mother, again to beg and sing.
Sequel of which her mind,certain to wing.
Yet that's all her destiny could bring.

With a plate in her hand,and fear in her eyes,
With the hunger to eat,and the desire to live.
Off she grabbed a nibble from my hand,
And kept me thinking of her thorny life time and again.....

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