COMPASS

For a hundredth time
She set out to draw
Pencil sharpened bright
Margined paper aligned right
And her compass at ready!
She screwed the pencil at one end
Pressed hard the other end on paper
With utmost care and fear she drew
And failed
For a hundredth time
"Alas, she is a little girl,
who cannot draw a circle"
Someone around said
"Unworthy daughter who
Cannot draw a perfect circle"
Father glared but mother cried
"My sweet, poor little one
 Shall make perfect circles
And become an angel"
Round eyes followed and stared
From among the bushes and streets
The aunt next door gossiped
"That little girl can't draw a circle
Even Kite, the beast with no reason
Can fly in a perfect circle"
Was it the compass, the pencil
Or her rebellious hand!
What went wrong, she cannot say.
But she failed again and again
At last, she found a solution
A bold one I must say
She broke the compass, yes
Tore it into two stupid sticks.
But hear O my people
She was no longer screwed
To the angry tyrant, the compass!
Oh! It was then that she found
Butterflies never fly in circles!!!!