All day she sat on her fear.
In the evening, she saw a crack in the shell.
With hope, she went to sleep.
When she woke with first light,
She felt something stir.
There she moved — a bird.
There was no denying,
it was herself.
She was strong.
ABOUT: This poem was cut from a section of Andrew Lang’s The Ugly Duckling, in the Fairy Tales Blackout Games shown below:
Pen's Ink 