I have a tale, But not a tail
Like felius domesticum

Its of a girl, a real girl
I'm calling by her real name

And thus began
summer camp sonnet
she saw a boy who would soon be a bee in her teenage bonnet

Nina and her very long hair
Held a torch that got her nowhere
She hit him with a thunderbolt smile
Every thing she had she threw
Every dress and every shoe

Nina and her very long hair
Held a torch that got her nowhere
As hard as she tried
He never looked twice
He never did see the light, and end the plight of Nina

Sometimes a [bad word] over me,
like a cold cup of tea
And I forget, what I was set
To snag and bag, grab and seize

At seventeen
She was still reeling
She went to camp
with [bad word] and a tent and that same old feeling
 [bad word] 
And so she snipped, she cut and she clipped
Enough to thatch a cottage roof
And once she'd preened, she glowed and she gleamed
off she set to make him swoon

She was the girl with very short hair, that got her nowhere