In Cinderella Fashion:

Imperative to see what fits familiar feet with slippered glass and sand blown memories of times which swift occurred then swept away the remnants of a luscious perfect day to wishes in the wells of self-defeat and tragedy too painful to complete the harmony eclipsing shadowed moons to cool the concrete footsteps sunken hewn It's with this feeling that I trace your steps and hope to feel emotions that are left like elements unmoving, set in stone I feel them beat my heart when I'm alone and in this solitude I see your face as real and as alive as my disgrace from blowing passed integral memories imperatively set beneath your feet.