Every baby is born with the potential to fly.

The world of faerie is very close by.

Children as they grow begin to doubt

their world fills with earthly facts to find out.

 

But this little girl was growing her wings

at night in her dreams she danced faerie rings

at school she always had her head in a book

reading magical stories, the teacher’s head shook

 

Although all the adults around her despaired

and muttered that she would grow up impaired

the faerie child just smiled and flew

she was doing what she wanted to do.

 

But faerie children living an earthly life

are often singled out for conflict and strife

Grown men have need to own and possess

that which is different, they found her address

 

And in the dead of night they came to her door

they took her free spirit and still wanted more

so they ripped her gossamer wings from her back

and stuffed them all crumpled into a sack

 

The faerie lay broken, the magic was gone

she didn’t want to carry on

better to die than live in such pain

never to fly in freedom again

 

The broken faerie grew up in sadness

inside her head her secret madness

All her dreams had been taken, there was nothing left

but a consuming anger for the long ago theft

 

Long years went by in isolation

She felt only longing and frustration

The world called her crazy and locked her away

they fed her on pills, she had to obey.

 

A therapist gave her a camera one day

when words had failed to help her convey

the height of her longing, the depths of despair

and how she didn’t belong anywhere

 

She looked into bushes and up into trees

at buds and berries and fluttering leaves

and there was the faerie world she had once known

all the beautiful places as a child she had flown.

 

She has a place in the world now, her pictures are sought

and she glows with pleasure each time they are bought

and on the inside she embraces a child

who was once part faerie, so free and so wild.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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