Her with the Princess,
(Don’t you even dare),
She’s jealous and thinks she’s just as fair,
She wants to be pretty too,
But she doesn’t have the attitude,
To make her dreams come true,
She’s grouchy in the morning,
And usually the rest of the day,
Yet she wants all the attention,
To be directed her way,
She’s the one with a snarl on her face,
And wonders why strangers avoid her,
Instead of meeting her face to face,
The Princess is pretty, kind, and sweet,
Delicate and choosy, tomboyish or neat,
Expecting attention yet she enjoys being alone,
She’s content in a garden or sitting on a throne,
Smiles are for everyone whether pauper or king,
She loves everybody and enjoys everything,
Sensitive and caring, she listens when you sigh,
Her heart is tender, she doesn’t want you to cry,
Everybody is her very best friend,
They’ll agree with that too,
Once you’ve looked into her eyes,
Her love will come through,
The Princess and the Wannabe,
How can I compare the two,
They’re as different as different can be,
That’s what I would tell you,
Each one has a beautiful face,
Loved by her own mother,
Each one has her own space,
They’re devoted to each other,
But even so as jealousy goes,
Their bond is very thin,
Someday they might be foes,
If something snaps within,
But for now it’s grins and smiles,
Love is shared all around,
You might go for thousands of miles,
Before stronger ties are found.
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