She felt a little lonely and sat in the corner,
Twiddling her thumbs, wishing she could do a runner.

Chatter chatter of the clan, she heard,
Though she wasn’t to utter a word.

Stripped of her being, yet trapped in the room,
She thought long and hard about her impending doom.

‘But why must it be this way?’
She sure hoped there would be a better day.

So quietly she pondered and made her plan,
Leaving the art of twiddling thumbs to her clan.

She took her chance and did a runner,
No longer was she an ornament of the corner.


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