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Like a child enlightened by heightened curiosity, this inquisitive Princess infers to a present too dismal.
As around a gentle sea lies an origin, abysmal.
She asked why I write, but knowing wasn't her right.
She was so persistent, and myself and I came to an entente.
To make up lies, so many. But in her native wit, she didn't buy any.
She continues to pry, but she can only try.
I don't wish to tell. I wish she could foretell.
But there may come a day when that I have thus my take, told.
Great poem with deem meaning. We should be mindful not to be too curious about people's matter