Invited into her chamber,

The princess preens and struts,

Lauding her power and seeks affirmation of a beauty within,

But extolls her God given body instead.

 

Nervously, I sit,

Now listening intently,

For clues in the language she speaks,

Unknown to a 12 year old boy.

 

All is blank, but growing uncomfortable with each probe,

As the Princess struts now, with growing confidence,

And Menace enters the room.

Ever so quietly, growing larger with each new question.

 

Suddenly, I am called,

A silent, interior voice, to leave.

 

Excuses are made, and I escape her clutches. This time.