I have a sweet little fairy that lives in my tiny garden.
She spends her time reading books of all sorts.
When I find that a flower in the garden has been broken
by kids, bears or my own clumsy hands,
I give it to the fairy to enjoy.
She has broken one of her wings.
I mended it once but has come off again.
I have decided I like her better this way. Wounded. Kind of like a ruin.
Adds a little tragedy, a little salt to the sweet I think.
So I am going to leave her as she is.
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