IAmAPrince

I am a prince.
Not a formerly known as turned symbol.
No paparazzi magnet in matrimony with the tabloids and headlines
No regal bearing…and not charming in the least
But I’m still a prince.

Made who I am by my blood
So it’s not a played out phrase
When I say I’d treat my wife like royalty…because she would be.
Because by logic I’m a prince if I was raised by a queen.

But I never get the chance to thank her.
My memory fails to keep track of our history the way parliament would
But it’s etched in the genetic structures she built in me
The way she contributed half
And we share the same beautiful biology
Constructed to the letter in the blueprints
She stowed away in my DNA
With every detail planned in her chromosomes
Sometimes forgetting my double helix inheritance when it gets lost in translation
And take for granted the fact I have an empire in my bloodline
That Alexander would envy.

So I’m hoping everything you are is hereditary.
Since I’d hate to be anything less
It’s impossible to be anything more
But taught to be as much since I was raised by a queen.
So I am a prince.

Not worthy of the title she gave to me
Never tried hard enough in school
Even less outside of it
While she worked 12 hours a day
Just to give me things I wanted but didn’t need.
But I learned from you.
See, a long time ago I realized that Grandma got it right
When she named you a miracle
Because you are.

A queen.
With your family as a kingdom.
Never wanted to be monarch
But willing to migrate for your future generations like monarch butterflies.
See, I could never treat your visage like Elizabeth’s
Molding it into metal.
Unable to place your face on currency
So currently, I’m trying to put your features into poetry.

Knowing I could never succeed.
But I’m trying.
Trying to live up to what you made me.
A prince.
Hoping to make the queen proud.