The Cub and the Prince

Poor cub, was shattered and saddened.
Desperate to have her heart gladdened.
Desperate to have her mind understood.
Desperate to break out from under Vishal's hood.

For the hood was dark and gloomy and slimy.
Though the walls were clean, the people were grimy.
And poor cub, all fresh and sweet.
Had to come everyday into this evil meet.

But God above was not unhearing of her prayers.
And infinite wisdom and mercy dripped from his hairs.
So one day, when evening had taken hold.
He sent along a prince, young and bold.

The prince was rich, though not moneyed.
His voice was sweet, though not honeyed.
His arms were strong, but not unmercifully so.
His eyes were black, but not unkindly so.

The prince met the cub, and rejoiced.
For the cub had set him free from a life oh so noised.
And the cub was so happy, to finally be.
What she knew she was, but couldn't be.

And the prince have the cub the sounding board.
For the thoughts and opinions she would hoard.
And when he talked it out with her, always kind and dear.
To the cub it suddenly all became clear.

She decided to go to Vishal Street no more.
She would do anything but never this anymore.
She would stay at home and teach if this
Was what it took to have professional bliss.

And then there was no fretting on her brow's ridge.
Came along a noble kingdom called authentic bridge.
Came along and took the cub under it's arm.
And the cub was saved from working in harm.

Now cub is happy, content and fat
In her wallet, and only in that.
Oh yeah, she's rich, in money rolling,
And she's rollicking, frolicking and gamboling.

The cub and the prince, live in the blossoms
Surrounded by donkey, peacock and possums,
They are happy, alive and glow a healthy pink,
And celebrate each day with love, food and drink.