Cindersoot, even princesses grow old.

Appearances are nothing,
you can drink the finest,
dine with kings,
dress in gold,
with diamond rings,
but i believe you miss heard me,
when i said my dear,
you can change you image,
but inside you're crystal clear,
make no mistake,
i can see right through you.

Cindersoot,
my darling,
forget the prince,
who danced for glory,
lose the carriage,
that makes your story,
create a fairytale,
based on truth,
not all princesses,
have the elixir to youth,
you can wear glass slippers,
but they'll eventually break,
alas your mask,
is beginning to fade.

Once upon a time you'll understand,
that dreams are built from you,
not the silly gowns you wear,
some opinions should be spoken,
by brave and noble women,
stand in those flimsy heels,
and your neck is surely broken.

I was taught,
by the stable hand deep within his manger,
that beauty accounts for portraits,
but inside we write the poetry,
tell me my dear,
where is your story to tell,
is it consumed with your Cinderella lies?
breath my darling,
stand aside,
let another dimwit take the princes side.

You are made for more,
challenge the kingdoms way,
create your own religion,
don't give your sanity away,
yes your beautiful inside and out,
but don't waste it in a life of ditz and glamor,
Princesses live in castles,
alas they too grow old,
without accomplishment or pride,
just fake friendships and Honor.

Cinderella skip your ball,
stay home and cure disease,
gaze at the stars,
with wonder and awe,
appreciate the stories,
live to learn,
create your fairytale dream,
and my dear girl,
you'll create a real story,
that shows the finer things,
because in every life,
we are our own royalty.