A small girl at the age of nine,
Always second-in-command, third in line.
Starving for more affection,
Never being given enough attention.

No one notices when she runs away.
There must be another place to stay
Where she'll be cuddled, kissed, and hugged.
All she wants is a bit more love.

Now she trudges down the street,
Her hair undone, her robes aren't neat.
She looks up and slows her pace;
In front of her a man with a handsome face.

He smiles warmly and offers her his arm,
Assurring her he means no harm.
The man tells her the tale of a princess named Brandy,
And as they stroll, offers her a piece of candy.

Her mind flashes to what her mother said in danger
Her daughter should ever encounter a malevolent stranger.
"They mean you great harm," she would say,
"Tell them you have to go, then run far, far away".

She tears herself away and hears a "Wait, Miss!".
Afraid now that she understands him for who he really is.
A long way she runs and does not tire,
Her eyes are wide and senses dire.

The door slams open and she cries,
"I'm home! I'm back!" and closes her eyes
As her mother holds her, banishing the fears
With small whisperes through sobs and tears.

A small girl at the age of nine,
Now she sees her life's just fine.