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Stephanie Green Poem
I saved a gift for my future prince
A gift that can only once be given,
But stolen from me, I can only cry
Who wants a used, discarded wench?
Vendettas, anger contrived my soul
Filled where once had been a heart.
A dead man's walk became my life
The selfish attack now takes its toll.
I, first, too young to understand
The brand, The Mark, was placed on me...
Confused with doubt, no sense of worth
The Maker's virtue, no longer at hand.
The dream that wasn't Their's to take
Now haunts my nightmares, endlessly.
Vulnerable, hurt, once innocent, naive
Left to a path that I must fake.
Turn back the clock, Just one more chance!
To choose a different destination
A prince to come, to rescue me...
No.
Trust only myself. Alone. I dance.
Copyright © Stephanie Green | Year Posted 2011
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