Her eyes , tears from told lies
Torn where is the cotton ?
May I have some mutton
Ate from a plate at a slow rate
The head she would cover , none would have her
Holding her spoon from dawn to noon
A desire to acquire something quite higher
Angry , hungry , the plane landed from Hungary
To her rescue , all she did was join the queue
She's now grown , something she can own , maybe a phone or home
Lived past the norm
©
F