She sits in her ivory tower and waits.
She chants a mantra for hours on end,
“One day my prince will come, so I must be patient.”
Her time is spent gazing into the distance,
not wanting to miss the moment he appears.
Day after day, he fails to appear on the horizon.
No shining armor.
No noble stead.
At sunset, she wraps herself in her delusions,
with only hope to keep her warm.
She holds her ideals of prince charming,
with unwavering, reverent faith.
Telling her charming isn’t real,
Would be like breaking the news about Santa,
To a bright eyed child setting out cookies on Christmas Eve.
You just can’t do it.
Time will be the only thing able to teach this lesson.
She stays in her comfort zone and waits.
Suitable suitors show interest,
yet she turns them away without fail.
She is the future Ms. Charming,
an identity she holds firmer than her own.
Childlike faith glues her to her post,
waiting and watching…
Years have passed with her perched and caged.
Her beauty has faded along with her values.
What was once the center of her world now means little.
As she gazes beyond the horizon,
she is blinded by enlightened revelations.
She dedicated her life to a fairytale
with only a broken heart and spirit to show for it.
As she watches her last sunset,
she whispers to some nearby woodland creatures,
“Life isn’t a Disney movie.”
The End.
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