In third grade we were just amorphous blobs,
  by fifth grade, we'd been sorted.
Princes, princesses, also-rans,
  and of course, the unrewarded.

I was the budding knight,
  and you the fragile flower.
Funny how I didn't notice then
  the missing petals in the dower.

It came as a suprise to me,
  that the sorting never stops
You'll think you've won
  the fight is done
And then the ...

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