Here By the Window

Here I sit by the window,
watching,
waiting,
I don't know what for.
Maybe,
if I sit here long enough,
my prince will come walzing by.
His armor will shine in the sunlight,
my smile grows wider,
and he'll stop by this window,
my window,
he'll take off his helmet,
his mask of disguise,
gaze straight through my eyes,
to my heart,
through the dusty, old glass.
Smiling, he'll pull up a rose,
its red beauty calling my name.
For the longest time,
we just stare at each other,
not moving an inch,
After one more second of looking my direction,
he places the rose on the ground,
turns,
and walks away,
never to be seen again.
Maybe next time,
I should open the window.