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?