On a lonely hillside...

On a lonely hillside,
Waits a maiden fair,
The wind whispers her name
And lifts her golden hair.

Her gaze is unmoving,
Her chin tilted high,
Yet her lips tremble,
And surrender to a sigh.

As sunlight turns to shadow,
She does not turn away,
Held captive by the mem'ry--
of two eyes--their haunting grey.

The eyes of one who'd claimed her love
And with a charming smile,
Had promised--"I will come,
If you love me, wait a while."

But alas! He wandered far,
And fate--unmerciful,
Left her to desp'rate sorrow,
That soon consumed her soul.

With a broken heart, she tarried
Upon that lonely hill,
And seeking what's forever lost
Alone, she stands there still.

I thought I really needed...

I thought I really needed to be like everyone else. I couldn't be myself--I mean, how unoriginal! Whether it was layers of black eyeliner dripping from bright blue eyelids, or pleading with my mother to let me chemically straighten my hair and highlight it--I wanted to do what everyone else was doing. It's strange as I look back--I was so afraid of what people thought, that I DIDN'T think about what I was doing. For example-does three colors of eyeshadow (blue, green, and brown) really look nice? (or like a nice bruise!) Does slimy slicked down curls really accomplish the straight and smooth trend? Was it worth the arguments about pants that "fit" only to be confronted in dress check?
I thought that once I looked, acted, and thought like everyone else I would be happy. I hurt my friends and lost even more confidence in the fact that I was a child of God with no need to fear men.
I think I finally realized my foolishness when I changed my life's priorities. I determined to be more "obsessed" with my spiritual life than with what I looked and felt like. As a result, I began watching different people, and realized that to "impress" them, all I had to do was be natural. Instead of spending hours in front of the mirror with a straightening iron, rehearsing what I would say to so-and-so, flipping my hair, and finding the right laugh; I started taking suggestions from those who knew more than me, and re-evaluating my desires. Instead undergoing mental stress and emotional trauma (Ah-Junior high years!) over the fact that I wasn't the most popular and beautiful, I learned to laugh at myself, and made it my goal to make others comfortable around me--so that they could learn (as I did) that they don't need to be like everyone else.

The advantages of being royalty

Royalty. Just speaking the word brings jewel encrusted tiaras and white silk gloves instantly to mind. A princess has all she wants at her manicured fingertips, and is naturally destined to meet prince charming, fall in love, and live happily ever after. What more could you ask for? To wake underneath a silver canopy, slip into long, shimmery dresses and have countless handmaidens quietly making you beautiful...
Without question, you would reside in the highest, most romantic turret of your ancient castle, and would spend most of your day in voice and etiquette lessons--learning how to sit straight and sweep gracefully and purposefully into a room. The remainder of your day, you would either stare wistfully out your bedroom window, or climb down the long vines encircling the walls in a moment of unregretted weakness--at last touching the mossy ground in slippered feet and retreating into the cool shade of the surrounding forest. There (thanks to your voice lessons) you would sooner or later find true love and be swept away in fairy tale bliss. Not to mention the adventures you'd experience--gold-hoarding dragons, evil magicians, moldy dungeons and--have I mentioned prince charming?
Of course, on a serious note, the benefits of living in such an influential position are undeniable. The responsibility to your people, and the duty to your crown both hold potential advantage for you and your kingdom if held in high and honest regard.
...and did I mention prince charming?