When I was pink and very new Wee fairies flew about my bed to sing their songs of mist and dew and weave their spells around my head They sprinkled love and tenderness within my safe and sheltered walls. Bestowing ease and playfulness and years of joy within those halls They showered me with gifts of heart, I‘m loyal, bold, and resolute I’m hopeful, brave and sometimes smart, and the love I share is absolute But the gift of words, I treasure best to share and teach, to play and read, I may be just a bit obsessed, but the fairies knew just what I’d need For I am cursed as well as blessed with a frightful nose, hair like string, I caterwaul instead of sing my back is bent, and, I confess I’m much too pleased with my stubbornness.
Prompt: Muse on gifts and curses of birth
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