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Black Boots

Boots
Sitting in a row
Line after line
Of yellow, wet boots
Shiny and bright
By the classroom door

Down by the end,
A little ways off,
Smaller than kthe others,
Sits a little pair
Of black boos

Belonging to the youngest,
The saddest
The all alone

The little girl
Who had no friends
Who no one talked to
And always wore black

But when she got home
And into her room,
She changed

She wore bright colors
And danced in the sunshine
She flitted with fairies
And became a princess

There, she found her friends,
Her enemies,
Her family,
Her happiness

And when she was done
She closed the book
And put it on a shelf
To wait for her return





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