It's Okay

My little kitten, it's okay that no one
Came to your piano recital.
My bright sunshine, it's okay that the only one
Who clapped to your Debussy title
Was the 7th grader's aunt.
My fair rose, it's okay that your lottery won
But you are not eighteen yet.
My gentlest tempest, it's okay that your pun
Got counted off twenty-seven points net
And made you a naught.
My iciest blade, but it's not okay that your gun
Fired at your own silhouette.

What made you think that, dear?




Fail, and this is my first English poetry ever. I hate poetry.