The fairytales that are never told.
Are the remembered as we get old.
The betrayal of our broken heart,
Or a death that ripped us apart.
We remember tales of happy ever after.
Light & hope that fill us with laughter.
In reality this is not the truth,
Of all the stories told in our youth.
Singing to birds won’t clean your house.
You’ll never find a talking mouse.
You won’t be saved by a dashing knight.
Or lose a glass slipper at the midnight.
We fight and work for what we need.
And rise and climb, until we breed.
We then teach our children the tales.
Of kings & queens until the world unveils.