Here you will find the Poem They Didnt Meet of poet Anna Akhmatova
They didn't meet me, roamed, On steps with lanterns bright. I entered quiet home In murky, pail moonlight. Under a lamp's green halo, With smile of kept in rage, My friend said, 'Cinderella, Your voice is very strange?' A cricket plays its fiddle; A fire-place grew black. Oh, someone took my little White shoe as a keep-sake, And gave me three carnations, While casting dawn eyes -. My sins for accusations, You couldn't be disguised. And heart hates to believe in The time, that's close too, When he will ask for women To try on my white shoe.
