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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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