String Games

A line of yarn, knotted at the end
Makes an endless circle.
It's hurtful
How the kids in the playground treat her.
Year after year,
She tries to make friends,
But she's different
And ignored.
So when she's bored
She untangles her only friend,
Then weaves pictures
Through her fingers
As the others look on with jealousy,
But they can't see
That if they only asked her name,
She'd teach them her source of fame-- 
String games.