Accepting Wants As Reality
Awarded Superior in Literary Arts
When I was five, I wanted to be a princess.
I thought they were more beautiful than anything.
They had long dresses, expensive lifestyles, “perfect features,”
And I dreamt that one day I would be as stunning as they were.
When I was six, I wanted to be a fairy.
They had so much freedom to explore,
And they too, were “perfect.”
When I was seven, I wanted to live in a mansion and play in the long corridors,
Living the same lavish lifestyle as a princess and feeling carefree, like the fairies.
When I hit eight, I wanted to be a vet.
Nine, a doctor.
Ten, a teacher.
All for reasons that stemmed from simple, childish dreams.
But when I turned eleven,
I wanted to be skinny.
Twelve, to have clear skin.