Wednesday, September 1, 2010

A Date With Cinders (An Elizabethan Style Sonnet)

Get in my car with me, I’ll take you out.
We’ll have a super time till midnight’s chime,
when you should go, you mustn’t hang about.
When you’re half naked there lies six months grime.
We’ll leave the dance and get you back home quick;
I wouldn’t want step-mum to catch us here.
You know the sight of me will make her sick
Now that the prince’s wedding’s gettin’ near.
Oh Cinders, curse that stupid little fairy
who waved her wand to get you to the ball.
She got you hitched up with that lisping Mary;
A prince or not, he’s got no brains at all.
I’m sorry love to make you feel so bad,
My first love lost, I’ll always be this sad.

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