You pace the room,
you wonder why,
"She left," you think.
You start to cry.

The castles you built,
the dreams you made,
tumbling down;
why didn't she stay?

"My princess," you whisper.
"You left your prince.
Can't you see?
Does it make any sense?"

The room doesn't answer,
the world can't say.
But there might be a reason
she went away.

Did you kiss her awake
from a hundred year sleep?
No? Then she wasn't your princess
it seems.

Did you find a glass slipper
and return it to her?
No? Then is she your
princess for sure?

Did you climb up her hair
to set her free?
No? She doesn't seem like
your princess to me.

Then I would consider it
best that she's gone.
Because she wasn't your true
princess all along.




Sorry it was so short, but some poems mean more if there's only a few, meaningful words to think on and a simple, plain message.