Cinderella lost her panties
at the ball last night
all her beauty wanished
in the morning light
and now the damage is done
and the mascara runs
and you can't see the stars for the sun
but poetic justice has no appeal
she herself made the god
by who's altar she kneels
but none of her offerings can satify
her god always craves more sacrifice
she can never be enough
all the skin, all the flesh
and all of her blood...
20100129
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