Twice the Standard, Quadruple the Anguish

August 15, 2009
We locked our princesses in high towers
To await their golden hour.
Wait to become some man's blushing bride,
Willing to wash his hind and scrub his teeth.
Wait a while,while the princes roamed free.

Trying girls on the tying them off
Cutting hearts to pieces with rusty saws.
Sowing what they will with their seed.
And selling them like kabobs
On skewers whilst their rods ached for more.
Searching for some brand new world to explore,

They wasted queens and spilled lies
Caught in twisted evil ties.
Found ones that flipped flap jacks and fit in small grooves.
Ones that had clipped wings and small mouths.
Fallen angels that couldn't remember the skies so they only flew south.

Ones that only grew smaller with each bite from a fork.
Ones that knew which stylish hairstyle to sport.
Ones that would fall on the ground and come up with a smile full of loam.
Desirous of nothing more than pocketbooks.
And ones with doll eyes full of vacant looks.

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