There once was a little-girl with quite grown-up thoughts
Who never did smile as much as she ought
She had nightmares of lace-covered, ivory dresses
Of smiling virgins with pearls in their tresses
Of monstrous, mean dragons in their ebony suits
Of a man and a woman and the two words "I do"
In the turret of a castle, in a closet quite dim
She could quietly water the rose or'e her chin
In a kingdom of words, on the blank of a page
She wrote thoughts that belonged to a girl thrice her age
She had a battle-worn heart and a shield at her side
And memories that branded the shine in her eyes
She'd seen plenty of dragons and nary a king
She knew prisons could come in the shape of a ring