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would be people’s queen

candle in the window
for the son of a widow
now left orphaned, save
for a bejewelled crown
whose issue once secured
now stands a former flame
for want of royal surrogacy
where an uncle demurred
now twice an heir found 
candle once in the wind
on a window sill still, sits
once, always the people’s princess 
Published inMainOtherSorrow

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