The odd <br /> duck <br /> spun a cocoon wrap of <br /> armor against pellets <br /> hitting with odd duckling <br /> taunts, but there's dent making <br /> pins waking her hurt. <br /> She digs and they laugh <br /> hit her <br /> strange waddles <br /> <br /> But she <br /> digs <br /> out a robust gift of <br /> talent, all hers, spurring <br /> her to ascend blooming, <br /> shocking the blind stunted <br /> group's pride as she rose. <br /> They tried but could not <br /> rub her <br /> prized waddle.<br /><br />Dorothy Randle Clinton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-odd-duck-s-prized-waddle/
