The deep dark woods are no place for a little girl.

I go there anyway, swinging my knife by my side as I walk.

The deep dark woods are my claim to fame, 

they’re where I’m strong, how I impress.

But lately, when I get back to the village, there are no cheers.

No claps. 

I didn’t go far enough.

I didn’t gather enough roots and vegetables.

Better luck next time.

‘But I went into the woods!” I want to say.

It’s not as impressive now.

The deep dark woods are full of little girls.

They’re not so deep or dark anymore.

Am I not brave enough anymore? Not strong enough?

Today I am too tired to go to the woods.