Daddy's Princess, certain age:
rule inside a gilded cage,
star upon a tiny stage.
Years of quiet swallowed rage.

Daddy's Princess: Mary Janes,
ice cream birthdays, candy canes;
gone, replaced with sorrow, pains,
wrinkle-spawning ball-and-chains.

Daddy's Princess, run the race:
paint a falsely perky face,
dress up still in too-young lace,
of the fear betray no trace.

Daddy's Princess: Frightened, cold,
panic-stricken growing old.
Not much solace left in gold.
Why, oh why was she not told...?

LW