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Princesses, Princesses.

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Princesses, princesses,
beauty and grace
with shiny silk,
pearls, and lace.
Dancing like ballerinas
upon a music box,
their stunning blue eyes
and long golden locks.

Perfection, perfection,
is all that you see.
But it's what lies within
that can never be.
For fairy tales
are more like lies.
You cannot marry a prince
or kiss butterflies.

And so we dream,
forever, we will.
For princesses, princesses,
are love's dainty kill.




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johnnieapplezz said...
Sept. 3, 2012 at 1:53 am:
My sister loves this poem, I read it to her (she's six) and she thought it was pretty and asked me to read it four times more!!! A little dark though, I guess that's what you were going for?
 
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