She was born in a little blue house deep in the woods, perched upon a hill, Her communtiy was broken, her family poor,, She was their little light, small and bright, As she grew, she began to escape into the books she found, Her light began to fade when she found that clear liquid fire back behind the family dryer. Mom noticed and asked "whats wrong?" She said "nothing, just moving along." Dad cried and asked her not to be this way, She smiled and walked away. Now she's all alone, Curled up under the blanket she brought from home. this new place is bitter and cold, lacking the warmth of her family, So she crawls behind her second hand dryer, and drinks her clear liquid fire.