To The Four Corners Of The World

The Letter Was Burnt

It was only going in the bin anyway:
where the disliked live and show their fear,
without reprise and aren’t afraid to run away
or stand their ground and fight.
They’ve always teased us and made us hate our smiles.
The way we walk and talk;
the way we laugh and cry and die;
and only end up saying goodbye.

Momentarily is scarily too soon for fairies.