As pretty as a white rose

In a bouquet of red

She never said anything nice;

Yet she was loved

Admired like dew drops

On daisy petals

At the first daylight of April

Funny in a hurtful way; 

She had a heart of cold with no emotion

Frost bitten lips from words

Breathed from her artic "soul"

Very pretty, but extremely ugly

No one understands how she can be both

Her mirror is her best friend;

Forever embedded in her hand

She'll stare into the eyes of her reflection

As if it could listen and respond

Instead it can only stare back with a look of haughtiness 

You can tell her to her face 

That she's almost a witch

Just a wicked cackle short

Owning the evil spirit

With looks that make people fall under her spell

Discussions only ending in spats

She thinks dawn from envy not worry

That I'll never get my best friend back

They always end in an over exaggerated bang

Onions have layers but so do parfaits

Words of anger spew from her mouth

"You were always jealous of me!"

"Why are you so obesssed with me?"

"You will never be good enough to hang out with me!"

And as loud as the burn

From the sting of a bee,

Who landed on your wilting rose

And brought it to life, hurts

She shouts

I rub my arm with distilled confidence and securities

And try again to save my friend

Because behind her screams

She's held captive by a dragon breathing beast

With ivory scales and raven hair

Who for some reason

Finds joy in keeping her there

And destroying her rescuers

Leaving the bloody remains of a relationship behind

"We used to be friends"

"This isn't you"

Heart-felt pleas with the effectiveness

of paper mache daggers

To reclaim her and kill The Beast

No records show so much beauty to be so ugly

For her I feel pity and sadness

To know my friend has died in vain

To be recreated as a monster

A rose crowned dragon 

Leaving the world to loving her

Only if they can get close enough to love her