Dancing, swinging, and swaying
Talking and laughing
Earrings flying, makeup sweating
Glitter and swirling skirts
A permissible peep show of sorts
The shoes, the hands, the hips
Everything spinning
The girl, the lights, the room
And then it's over
Driving home with music blaring
Wishing for one more dance
Before the clock strikes twelve
When the frock comes off
And shoes are tucked away
But not until the layers of makeup
Come peeling off does she realize
Cinderella must have felt this too
This poem is so you...princesses, dancing, makeup and glitter. :)
ReplyDeleteA true Purple Princess
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