A homeschooled girl who skipped a grade,
Picked up a book she found that laid.
“Mommy! Mommy!” the young girl screamed,
And in her eyes you saw a gleam.
“Po-ee-try” the girl pronounced,
Her mother told her “Sound it out”
And so she did and that’s when she,
Had first discovered poetry.
She cracked the book and read page one,
Then said, “Let’s read another one.”
And what was one soon was four,
But still the young girl wanted more.
And so they read until the mother,
Stopped and said “let’s read another.”
The mother pulled out paper and pen,
Then said “now let’s try this again.”
Confused, the young girl started to fret,
‘til her mother said, “It’s not written yet.”
She put the pen in the young girl’s hand,
And soon she started to understand.
And with that pen came weightless power,
And the little girl just wrote for hours.
This one, that one, anything,
She’d ignore when doors or phone’s would ring.
Three years later that same girl saw,
The exact same book that changed it all
When asked which book she wanted to get,
She said, “It hasn’t been written yet.”