She sits with her books
Huddled in small nooks
Cuddled in blankets
Her friends list blankest
She causes no waves
No ripples to stave
Her world in novels
Her mindscape models
Her literature
Her literal cure
For all that ails her
Her escape for sure
Comfort in silence
Since a baby hence.
She has worlds inside
She waits to decide
For someone worthy
A knight to save thee
Chivalrous he’ll be
But locked away
In her keep she’ll stay
Waiting it would seem
Once upon a dream.
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