He was just a year older,
but I, at least three wiser.

The Gatekeeper, silently watching ***** Dancing,
assuming us at ease, slowly dozed off.

Plastic floors, feigning multi-colored concrete,
built a vivid castle around us.

And there, I found my primary-colored sanctuary,
a dungeon to others, with rubber walls.

The Giant, just a year older
and at least seven inches taller,
tore down the castle doors,
and away my Damsel flew.

No time to react,
I watched as the sly-deviled Giant ripped her from limb to limb.

My mouth wide in horror,
her tiny shoes fell to the ground,
her blonde locks not far behind them.

And I, the lonely maiden, just one year younger,
but wild beyond my years,
Let rage turn me to a vicious knight,
determined to slay the Giant-turned-Dragon.

With scales dragging between my teeth, I found his flesh
and tasted sweet victory, a tinge of iron.

The Dragon recoiled, agony escaping from his jagged teeth,
The Damsel falling from his clutch, to the cold plastic cement.

Tears reclaimed the Giant from his vicious reptilian form,
and those seven inches meant less as his wailing continued.

And I, the valiant maiden-knight, had slain the mighty Giant;
who was just one year older, seven inches taller,
and knew never to touch my Barbie dolls again.