There it sat,
To my left,
A great big heft,
To carry the middle,
Not the right,
Left grew to a widdle,
It's bones very light,
Even with all her might,
She couldn't take flight,
But she can still fight,
Her muscles still tight,
If you put her in the air,
She could be a kite,
In her sight,
All that was left,
Was a back to the corner,
The background paper white,
The light was so bright,
It shone to a new height,
Even in the night,
She stays to the left,
She never goes right,
Because there is nothing left.