I caught a fairy on the wind,
Wings and legs all entwined,
She wiggled in my tight grasp
But I held her by the ankle, fast,
"There's no use wishing on me,
I can't grant anything," said she,
I blow off her gold fairy dust,
"I'm sorry," I say, "But I must."
But wish after wish never came true,
I scowl at her, "The problem is you."
On the mantle I find a glass box,
It shimmers red-orange like a fox,
Laced with an old witch's brew,
And an old lock none can undo,
How the tiny fairy did cry and cry,
To escape, though, she ne'er did try,
Locked away forever and a day,
Just because I couldn't get my way.
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