I know you've heard the story,
I promise not to take the glory.

"Cindy my angel," her father called her
"Pretty one," her mother called her.
For she was as fair as the morning sun
everyone admired her beauty and wished her to be their wife (the young males).
She had hair as yellow as gold
and had eyes as blue as sea
with fair skin as bright as day,
she was wished a wife to all,
but was fit a wife for Prince.
Her mother on her death bed told her dear,
"Be thee kind to young and old and cease not your father his food,"
She brought her young head close,
on it she placed a warm kiss more good than gold,
"But why say this things to me old one? Has the earth grown tired of thee?" She asked.
"For not only the earth is gone weary of my little head, but time and all," she spake to this young girl.
"For if thou go, who will comb my hair and put it up in ponytails!" She cried.
She was still young, a teen she was
She cried and cried, her eyes they bulged
For knew she that her joy was gone
"I might be gone in earth I lay, but deep down in your heart I stay, just do good!" Her mother said before she died.
All day and night her grave she lay
her father married he another wife
with two girls came she (his new wife), beautiful as well.
They ate and ate and ate and ate till the night came,
they made Cindy work and work and work all day and night.
She barely slept.
Her yellow hair turned brown from dust,
unkempt it was just as she feared
her fair bright skin turned dark as night.
Her father bought no more for her new clothes and shoes.
She worked and worked with no complain
her mother's words she kept to heart
She took a seed and planted it o'er her mother's grave.
It grew so tall, on it birds perched,
right there she made wishes and true they came.