By Nurdina
There once a small fairy
floating alone at the balcony
with her twinkling, sparkling little wings
and her watered, pooled eyes, teary.
There once a small, shy boy
who thought the neighbour was a coy
by her sweet melodies he enjoyed
to silently allure men just to be toyed.
Yet, little did he know,
Pretty creatures produce broken things,
the one that’s beautiful to others but to her,
it stings.
Having hidden gems in her to conceal
while others not knowing behind the scene.
Yet, here he is again,
Listening to the sweet melodies of a fairy
who’s singing her heart out until dusk,
to forget burdens they have to carry
without realising her crying fairy dust
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