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THOSE GLASS SLIPPERSOnce a little girl growing up in a poor way. She was always cold and hungry everyday. Her house was little the rooms very small. There was no heat and very thin walls. The nights were getting warmer the days longer. She met a young man and their love grew stronger. The dream of those glass slippers had finally faded. Cause the life she had made for herself she would have never traded. Teresa Skyles 1/17/2010 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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