A prince, but never to be a pauper. Sold the family crown, and headed to California. Our dear King Charlie had praised the fab four. Now two princes gone to war. The Queen is turning in her grave, surely Dianna in dismay. The dog bowl prince, had too much to say. Can peace talks ever begin? Princes at war. Or another broken necklace, and one more slap to the jaw.
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Smith Shine Poetry 