Their beautiful satin face was torn,
Dirtied and tattered from being worn.
‘Neath music and lights, they made her fly;
The flowers and trophies made her cry.
On strange stages black, she carefully tread
Until at last, the shoes set to bed.
Pink satin shoes in which she danced
Interred by the years in which they romanced.
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Comments
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beautiful ♥
I can really relate to this. A very nice poem over all. Flowed nicely too.
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