She was young and smart, 

Carried a tender little heart; 

She walked along with the garden, 

Hoping it would ease her burden. 

The garden pricked her with thorn,

But she felt it sweet like cereal corn;

She hoped for a fairy mother's miracle,

But the pixie dust seemed very far away.

Her heart which never blossomed,

Felt numb and it became her own drug; 

She never longed for her Prince because, 

Her heart was not strong enough to hold love. 

The sad Princess never tasted joy, 

Till the day under the Cherry Blossoms;

She found her pixie dust circling in the wind, 

Towards the one, once called 'The sad Prince'.