I read the greatest ill of all is loneliness.
I wonder if that's a lie.
For human heads keep hovering around me 
Like hordes of buzzing flies.
Yet, who'll help cure me of my distress?

My castle-home beckons me near 
It's shiny gloom I crave 
Upon it's cosy, warmed-up bed
I dream of being brave.
And for the unfortunate, I murmur a silent prayer.

I see a young girl everyday 
Toiling in our gardens below 
She waves to me when she glances up
As I peek from a turret window.
"What's your name?" she mouths, somehow I dare not say.

In many ways, she seems like me
But not from what she does.
She runs barefoot on the greyish earth
And plays with blades of grass.
Oh, she hums a song about being free.

Free? How strange, for she is not 
She is one of the family maids 
She would not know her p's and q's
Neither poise nor grace.
And she doesn't even care to faint when the sun's so very hot!

I've been told that I am free, and one day will rule my land
But nanny gently chided me when I played in the golden sand.
I'm not allowed to befriend her---- that poiseless garden-girl,
Instead, I learn my French all day, or play with mama's pearls.
She is like the wind I think, all fearless, wild and free
I wish that garden-girl were I, that garden-girl were me!

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