A little babe was born,
Like a rose with a thorn,
Dangerous but simply beautiful,
Distant yet brightly graceful.

They'd tell you to watch out,
To stay away from the thing we know about,
To wake up and run,
Only towards the yellow sun.

But the little ones huddle in the corner,
And listen to the professional mourner,
Tell the legend of the forgettable tale
Until the rooster croaks for the boat must sail.
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A/N: this poem has hidden meaning in it, so it's alright if you are mostly confused. (: