Underneath that tiara . . .

As a little princess
Adorned by her father
In the finest of things
Is my beauty.

My daddy loves me
Of this I am sure.
Metting every need and want-
His desire is only the best for me.

Yet underneath all
Not what it seems to be
The girl in the mirror
She is not pretty.

The tiara only covers up
Hair in a ratted mess
From long days of banging her head
Against her fathers wishes no doubt.

She is not pretty-
Not who she wants to be.
Even under the many things to adorn
Never enough.

This beauty
I just cant see.
It is nothing
That I can see.

Even ugly in a princesses clothing
Is empty
Its nothing
Its me.