The holy month is her last name
inherited by the aristocracy
Pushed into an entirely new game
a world full of kindness and hypocrisy
Crisp joyful cheers all around
excited her purity and innocence
She soon had herself prettily crowned
with love and indulgence
Rainbow was cast over her
as she climbed up showering herself in hues
Never the playground became blur
something that no one would refuse
Just like Alice eating the cake
a mature woman she has become
True origin she will not forsake
which is as sweet as the divine plum
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