Once was a little girl, who had a little curl; with her finger she did twirl. While thinking about things she had seen; she would often daydream, about being good and not mean. No matter how much she tried, She still told stories and lied. Thinking through all her misfortunes, she cried. With the mishaps she had, how could she be good and not bad? Thinking of it all, just made her sad. It seemed the more she tried, the more others would boo; for they disliked her too. Nothing was right, everything was wrong. How could she fit in and belong? The older she got, the worst she became; now to the point of being insane. As she laid upon her bed, crazy things wondered through her head. If she couldn't be good she would rather be dead. One last cry for help, she did scream; then to her wildest dream, Jesus came in to be her King. Now all is well, for she is good, helping others where she stood. Showing them how they too can be good.