The King's Daughter

The daughter of a king
What does this world know.
No paper no proof
No place of identity to show.

Her worlds humble themselves
At her feet each day.
For her royal features
Her charm and talents displayed.

She's a king's daughter
She's loyal and family true.
No culture wouldn't be proud
If they only knew.

Forced to keep her identity
By her peers and contingents each day.
To escape defiled repugnance
Is her lifes ransom she pays.

She never cries out
She is given everything
But her heart lies heavy
From her memories of the King.

by Cecelia Weir

Comments (1)

This poem is worthy of a comment. It has a good rhymne, and well thought out words. Joe