Little missy

Tender little pale feet

each footing of a note

a song that folds up time

set neatly in her coat,

her eyes are wide and seeing

far deeper than you’ll know

she knows each soul in weeping

and chains them to her tow,

drags them over wanting coals

flesh seared to the bone

she laughs upon each dragging

in a playful whimsical tone,

sweet child in golden gown

pulling the many dead weight

of them who scorned in life

and fell upon her plate.

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