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| A short poem about a king who is crushed by his queen |
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A Queen Is A Gift
A queen is a gift, my liege.
This one, she rarely speaks.
She walks down your halls shuffling her skirts.
Red skirts, my king,
you know what that means.
A queen is a gift my lord,
her face is so pale, the whitest silk it is.
She does not speak, my master,
she was trained to please you without a word.
A queen is a gift, you worm,
And her eyes are so green,
Green like the poison that flows in your veins.
And now you are a toad, my liege
A queen is a gift, my king
And now she crushes you sweetly
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| Dernery's learning |
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