Little you may call me,
But the thoughts that run through my little mind are of the galaxies away,
Though feeble i maybe, it is not a criterion for judging what i will be,
Just as little as the larks soaring the depths of the skies in the dark,
Inexperienced, you may call me, but i still have the time to make things right by me,
As stupid as i may seem, don't ever disregard my worries and my sighs,
Because i am the light of your future to come,
Make it right with the eggs and you will see the chickens will fly like an eagle,
Make it right with the cubs, you will see you are grooming the kings of the jungle,
Make it right with this little star, and he shall show you the way of the constellation.
Though callow i am, you will be surprised what the indulgence of my little wits will bring,
I am your little soldier, mould me into the warrior i may become,
Still I am your rusty sword, make my handling as fine as that of excalibur.
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