My childhood's full of stories--
Happy endings and of kings:
Of fairy-tales where love prevails
And princes give me wings...
I knew that prince was coming,
But I couldn't stand the wait;
So I packed my heart with all my love
And served it to my dates.
The problem was, they liked the taste,
And stole it one by one--
Until my waning love was gone--
The "princes'" ploys had won.
Except, they were not princes:
And they could not give me wings;
But one's "tough love" did hold promise,
And he promised finer things...
His "tough love" gave me bruises;
Silken robes were his disguise:
A quick distraction covering
The hatred in his eyes.
"My love for you," he said smiling,
"Is as this plastic rose:
It's beautiful and vibrant,
But it's lying to your nose."
I wonder at this "prince,"
And the dragon he's become;
Or has he been that all along?
Have I been so dumb?
Wearing satin clothes and bruises,
I know now I can't complain;
For I have these plastic roses,
And a man who knows my name.
So, trapped in his great palace,
I had tried to pass the time--
Had I planned enough escape routes
To give up on a new rhyme?
Then I came across a show
Played on the TV set upstairs--
A man behind a pulpit
Telling me to cast my cares.
Of course this tale was news to me,
And who in life could bear--
The love and care it took for me
To carry all MY cares?
The man ended his sermon
With a blesséd King of Kings--
Whose Love prevailed and never failed
To give His children wings.
Now I have a proposition--
Should I trust what he proclaimed,
Or stay bound by plastic roses
And a man who knows my name?