Waiting on Her Prince

She used to dream of a beautiful prince,

With thick black hair just grazing his bright green eyes

And sun kissed skin covering his tall frame.

She thought she ran into him one summer.

He was a perfect gentleman and was quick with words.

He always gave her something to think about,

While he was daydreaming of a princess many miles away.

She was his play thing and she noticed something wasn't quite right.

Her prince had eyes the color of the forests,

While this imposter gazed at her with titian irises.

No matter how handsome and kind he was,

He was not her Prince Charming.

He was a replica with a different soul.

And so she trudged back up to a tower,

Which was only an attic,

Where she waited for her prince once more.

Although the rooms were cold and lonely,

She decided even though she was no princess,

She would wait for this dream of love for as long as she could.

Even now she sits there looking out the window,

Maybe not for her Prince Charming,

But maybe for a love she has yet to know.