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Dearest Prince (A Mad Girl Poem)
Dearest Prince.
Whom I wait for evermore.
Trapped away that neither sword nor spell can break.
Dearest Prince.
Of whom my affection I implore.
I wait for you my prince, coming riding on a white horse.
Just like the men of storybooks long ago.
Flee from the evil sniveling hag and come find me.
Your mere pauper, not a princess.
But still with a heart of golden glass, I am waiting.
Waiting and waiting, and though my heart may break.
I am your Penelope and your are Odysseus returning home from the sea.
I am Ophelia whom will wait upon a bough that will eventually break--
All in the hope loving you my Hamlet, my tragic prince.
My fallen hero of an unspoken war.
I am Desdemona and will allow you to stifle my breath, your hands around my neck--
As long as you will hold me at last.
As long as I may call you my Moor and you--
You will call me yours.
And I will kiss thy lips one final time.
The curtain shall fall and you shall be mine.
My prince.
Your pauper.
My love.
Your dream.
My Romeo.
Your Juliet.
And so my prince.
I shall wait for you tonight.
Leave Rosaline and pay her no mind.
Come to my balcony and I shall play you a song.
Stroking my bow across the strings.
And I will sing to you.
And the sky.
And the stars.
I will sing of our love that shall never be.
For we are one of the world’s greatest works.
We are a romantic tragedy.
Like so many others before us.
We are a star-crossed, ill-fated, destiny.
Go down in history with me.
Into my starstruck fantasy.
Break me down, this tower-- my wall-- my castle.
I am an enchanted rose inside of a glass.
The beast and the beauty meet alas.
And the evil queen whose wishes to be fairest of all.
Keeps us from the other.
From being together.
Keeps us from what we were meant to be.
Together.
You and me.
Infinity.
Forever.
Dearest Prince.
Let me save you.
So that you, may in turn--
Save me.
Whom I wait for evermore.
Trapped away that neither sword nor spell can break.
Dearest Prince.
Of whom my affection I implore.
I wait for you my prince, coming riding on a white horse.
Just like the men of storybooks long ago.
Flee from the evil sniveling hag and come find me.
Your mere pauper, not a princess.
But still with a heart of golden glass, I am waiting.
Waiting and waiting, and though my heart may break.
I am your Penelope and your are Odysseus returning home from the sea.
I am Ophelia whom will wait upon a bough that will eventually break--
All in the hope loving you my Hamlet, my tragic prince.
My fallen hero of an unspoken war.
I am Desdemona and will allow you to stifle my breath, your hands around my neck--
As long as you will hold me at last.
As long as I may call you my Moor and you--
You will call me yours.
And I will kiss thy lips one final time.
The curtain shall fall and you shall be mine.
My prince.
Your pauper.
My love.
Your dream.
My Romeo.
Your Juliet.
And so my prince.
I shall wait for you tonight.
Leave Rosaline and pay her no mind.
Come to my balcony and I shall play you a song.
Stroking my bow across the strings.
And I will sing to you.
And the sky.
And the stars.
I will sing of our love that shall never be.
For we are one of the world’s greatest works.
We are a romantic tragedy.
Like so many others before us.
We are a star-crossed, ill-fated, destiny.
Go down in history with me.
Into my starstruck fantasy.
Break me down, this tower-- my wall-- my castle.
I am an enchanted rose inside of a glass.
The beast and the beauty meet alas.
And the evil queen whose wishes to be fairest of all.
Keeps us from the other.
From being together.
Keeps us from what we were meant to be.
Together.
You and me.
Infinity.
Forever.
Dearest Prince.
Let me save you.
So that you, may in turn--
Save me.
Published 16th Dec 2013
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