Wimpy Child

Thick goggles and a long gown
Ta-ta small, hair needs a mown;
Then she seem fearful in a lown
Tarnishing shapes, genetic sown.

No one liked her for being brawn
Nerdy in looks, head often down
Noticeably, all she do is to frown;
Nabby pieces of a broken crown.

To her pairs, she was a naive fawn
Togging subject for every clown,
That wimp is so fearful and torn
Tonnes of pains in her wrecked horn.

Outrightly wild to everyone born
Of a woman in her low timid world;
Odd momentary goddess; dull sound,
Occasionally, she vamoose in a crowd.

Scramming to her dark lonely hide
Shady in looks, wrecked and wierd;
Some wimpy children, time once had
Soon become bold and smart in town.

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