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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.

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