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.