I am born and I drift

Through the winds to Pixie Hollow

In seconds I adrift

And no one seems to follow

 

They all thought I was a mess

A dabble, who knew

In the end, it was just a lucky guess

In this mixture of hue

 

Now I fix the broken items

While the rest enjoy a swing

Flying to the mainland like titans

My disease is like a bee sting

 

With dyspraxia, I sit around

Breaking pots during repair

With these symptoms I act like a clown

And no one seems to care

 

None of them know the truth

They see me as a sinker

All that's left in my youth

Is for them to call me tinker