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You must be so tired of kissing frogs ...
Maybe a Prince is not what you need,
But I don't suppose you can even
Contemplate such, being a princess and all.
Storybook lives are never just that,
Most often they are tragedies, and
Set on a collision course with fate,
Seemingly for the sake of drama alone,
And those of us who sometimes require
Witnessing the failures and pains in
Other lives, in order to make us feel better
About the shortcomings in our own,
Or, as a template for a break in banality.
I doubt there is much envy afforded you
In reality, to see your adored, iconic daddy,
A man of exceptional, once-in-a-generation
Talent and charismatic magnetism,
Eaten up and digested by the very
Business that he worshiped himself,
And taken far too young by the things
That only such means could supply
In sufficient quantity and ease ...
Surely your little girl heart and mind
Could not fathom why such an icon
Would realize that horrid end, cold on
Such an exquisite, Italian marble floor.
How any child survives such a thing
With a semblance of sanity and normalcy
Is hard to grasp, and yet you had the
Extra pressures of being "HIS" daughter,
The child of a man bigger than himself.
I can't imagine it, true ... I don't want to ...
People saying things that people do,
Headlines and names, and the nastiness
That the worst of graft and greed
Create, in a world where such things
Generate a business of their own.
I, for one, did not envy you ... money,
Fame, notoriety at such a high price ...
Anyone with any sense of reality and
Actuality could NEVER envy such a life.
Then, years later - a lifetime later, really,
When happiness had found you again,
When love and sharing and togetherness
Had saved you from the emptiness of
Such a tragic and cold childhood legacy,
When you had seemingly paid the dues
That any such extraordinary journey so
Often requires, and found another
Man of once-in-a-generation talent
And magnetism and raw charisma,
Probably the ONLY such man who could
Stand on equal level with your daddy,
When a smile, a genuine smile, a smile
Of sincerity and love and excitement had
Finally and joyfully returned to your face,
The fates played their hateful trick on
You again ... pulled the precious and rare
Rug out from under your ruby slippers ...
Again the same vile and hideous beast
Came calling to your life for payment,
And your larger-than-life love and friend
Was eaten up and digested, by the same
Monster that visited you so long before.
I don't know you, but I don't envy you ...
I don't envy you, but I do admire you ...
How you have continued with life in a
World that must seem wholly hostile
And bent on the ruin of your happiness
Is beyond my comprehension, and I
Hope, in my heart of hearts, that you
Are through kissing frogs, and that
Your prince is worthy of such a rare
Orchid, and up to the task of making
You smile. For whatever life brings from
Now on, and whatever the world
Assumes of you in its rush to tell a story,
I pray you find a true and abiding
Love and happiness ... I have no reservations
About saying, quite honestly and truly,
That you, of all such fairy tale princesses,
DESERVE a happy ending.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2016
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