In a golden savannah where the tall grasses sway,

Lived a little lion cub named Leo one day.

His paws were quite small, his mane just a fluff,

And when he tried roaring... it wasn't so tough.

"Squeer!"

The big lions roared loud in the pride,

Their voices like thunder bouncing far and wide.

But Leo's small squeak barely filled the air,

It got lost in the wind and vanished somewhere.

"Oh dear," sighed Leo, "I'm just too small.

My roar doesn't matter, it's nothing at all."

He tucked in his tail and stayed quiet and low,

Too shy and too scared to let his voice show.

One day by the watering hole, cool and wide,

A tiny bird chirped from a branch by his side.

Her voice was so small, yet clear as could be,

She sang without fear for the whole world to see.

"But how?" asked Leo. "You're smaller than me!

Why aren't you afraid? How can that be?"

The bird simply smiled and fluffed up her chest,

"Your size does not count, it's the heart that matters best."

That night in the savannah, under moonlight so bright,

A rustle of danger crept into the night. 

A sneaky hyena tiptoed around,

While the pride of lions slept on the ground.

Leo felt shaky, his heart beat so fast,

But he knew he must act; he must be brave at last.