CIndy and the Slipper

I saw here here before

Wandering through the aisles and picking at tags

Down on her knees, in service to something

Finding the shoes to help time pass

Without bills, notices, forms, letters

White in body and black in form

Without socks, she ran as fast

White, streaking hot through the cracks and the torn

Back home, down in the parlor

They shouted until the neighbors shouted back

When the just keep pounding and shouting

And running the night dry

All that's left is the shoes

And to jump into the fire

Back on the streets, she faded black

An old polaroid in the attic back home

And her prince is still outside

Throwing rocks and shouting names

But the castle is closed