All To Myself

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It is not uncommon,

Or so they say,

For a little girl's thoughts

To flit and stray.

Mine go to battles

Fought long ago.

Fought for reasons

Only the good Lord would know.

To days spent in castles,

And nights spent with knights.

To the life of a model

Living under the lights.

To love and hatred,

Monsters and kings.

To dancing ladies

And wedding rings.

A life with a prince,

A pleasant escape. 

The Phantom in his opera

Always wearing a cape.  

Hours of stories,

Weeks of good fun,

And no need for a favorite

Because I loved every one. 

My quiet little spot,

And my favorite memory,

Was among my dear books

In my small library.  

**This was written for a contest on Allpoetry.com.**

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