Little puppet was made
Like a fairy angel in shade
She was dressed in pink
And so was named Rosy in ink
Lime was her taste
Ants were her mates
Littering was her weakness
Loitering was her meanness
Eyes are red with blue *****
Life are blue with red falls
Ocean chiseled her heart
And purgation baked her to frost.
Now time has come for her
To let go off what is not hers.
But still the sculpture is busy
And her emotion is again in fussy.