Once Upon A Time
There was a princess who was deemed
most beautiful of them all.

She didn’t want the title,
and the title didn’t want her.
For she never felt beautiful.

Her hair hit her waist,
a burden.

Her eyelashes were too long,
a flashy comment.

Her figure was an hourglass,
a shame.

Her dresses were too tight,
a misleading statement.

The title told her to talk to the witch,
and she would know what to do.

So the princess ran to a small cottage,
to find a striking young man looking at her.

He was what the princess wanted to be.
For he was a boy, and she was stuck as a girl’s body.

“Please help me not be the most beautiful,”
the princess pleaded, offering everything she owned.

The witch looked down at her, but smiled softly.
“Are you wishing to be a prince?”

The teenage girl nodded, pleading to be so through a candle.
The hatred for her body was too much to handle.

So with a snap,
on the floor there was a handsome young chap.

He looked at himself in the mirror,
and began to cheer.

His hair was short,
a blessing.

His eyelashes were stubby,
a subtle touch.

His figure shaped as a box,
a boost in self-esteem.

His clothes fit just right,
a statement right for him.

“Prince, Jasper, must go on ahead,”
with a smile the witch said
turning into a beautiful woman.

The prince smiled brightly without vain,
not having to hear the old name.

“Thank you, for your acceptance.  This was vital,”
the young prince said before yearning a new title.

The kindest prince to ever live.