up and down the mansion halls, just always in the way
of heads of state, of honored guests; and never did she halt
to say hello as room by room across the halls she'd vault.
Little Jackie Finnigan loved her family:
Her father, last great governor of such a fine city;
Her brother, the explorer, venturing beyond each bend;
And lastly, Adii Quinntoughin, her best and closest friend.
Little Jackie Finnigan, blessed, yet still so sweet,
Spent her summers walking through the city in bare feet,
Spreading laughs to young and old, while at her father's side,
Always keen to keep ahead, despite her meager stride.
And little Jackie Finnigan grew and grew until
the day she turned thirteen, when time, itself, for her, stood still...
She cried over her father's form, his blood caked in his beard,
And there before two hundred eyes, Little Jackie disappeared...
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