I, a brave  and naive soul ,
Was born into this wicked world
Wanting nothing more than  
To become someone loved
And someone necessary

It didn't matter to whom
Or by whom this may be
And I soon learned that
That someone might not be family
Even though it broke me repeatedly

I learned quickly
About how my father
Is the mighty hero of the story
And I, as one of his lowly children
The lecherous, lazy villain

And my mother
His naive yet lovely maiden
Always quick to defend
Him, not me, not us her brood
Yet has the gall to say she is on my side

And somehow I wonder
How there is a part of me that still hopes
Still dreams of great things
Still reaches out in hope of more
Still believes that I can be cherished

How this villain can become someone's queen