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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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