"To His Highness"
By: Lorraine D. Villete
Sweet little boy of divine,
Please play it nice; do not cross the line.
Do not fight with other children in the kingdom; do not take what is mine.
Your hands are already full of wondrous playthings, so don't you dare try to take ours, for you—your highness, are committing more than just a crime.
Stop tugging so hard.
Keep that up and I'll have to lower my facade.
For what you are trying to take from me will leave me scarred.
It is part of my heart—that you are as well tearing apart.
It is not just a toy, little boy.
It is a blessing that only I can bestow.
Given to me, my only reason of escape in sorrow.
Not for you, but for me to enjoy.
Flashing it with your own portrayal is what people see you hold,
No longer can I call it mine—no, don't you dare say it is still mine to own.
That is yours now, yours to mold.
For you and I, do not share the same amount of gold.
From afar I continue to watch as you go.
I'll let you take what is mine—precious to behold.
Despite in deep-seething passion, I stand in the cold.
Tears streaming, but I will not let it show.
It is yours now—you have crossed the line.
What I have treasured and loved—yours, much to my demise.
People will adore your noble riches, but don't you dare say you got it from me.
For the real ones are aware of the true maiden whose gems were stolen;
And that the divine's sweet boy is nothing more than a fine swine.
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