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03:58 Dec 30 2011
Times Read: 409
I'll never be a princess.
Foes beaten senseless.
Battle marks, scars, none of self.
The harm of stories upon a shelf.
In the mirror I saw a black widow.
A web, masked upon a window.
Twas a fellow who wooed the stubborn.
Sheepishly, she gave in, with concern.
What goes though his mind?
Is this what they say is blind?
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