The prince pulled her in,
Giving her his famous grin.
The princess stared,
Breathing? she didn't dare.

With a shuffle here,
And a shuffle there,
They twirled around,
Not making a sound.

Time slowed down,
Just the two of them with crowns.
A prince who's a mystery,
With such a history.
A princess in the ball,
Feeling ever so small.

He smiled,
She smiled.
And for once,
It felt like someone finally understood them.

i

o crow
you are a sweet-heart so
when i come across a dead bird

on the pavement
i have a broken heart
it has gone but to pardise..

meanwhile we have become
hustlers-a pitza or a book of poems
by crow called tomorrow..

but fall with love-to die
in love..perhaps a cat..
a suitable epithat-

ii

just like that..