Part 1 - Little p r i n c e s s

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When they tell you
What goes up,
Must come down-
They forget to mention
That it's your crown,
That'll slide of your head
Until it hits the floor,
Til picking it up becomes a chore.
You begin to wish,
Not wish but wonder
If you could be the princess
In the thunder,
Who pricks her finger
With blood stained carpets,
Not able to awake her slumber.
-b.

-b

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