The Captain’s Daughters
On a bright, clear summer day sitting under a tree
Were a captain’s only daughters, numbering three
The first was a brat and as vain as the sun
The second was a demon loved by no one
But the third was the youngest; an unknown gem
For she was so quiet no one noticed them.
So when the first would whine looking for mirror
Or the second would run around causing an awful terror
The third would quickly silence them with a shush from her thin lips
And all three would slink right off onto one of their father’s ships.
