I was raised believing in fairy tales
Those magic-filled nights
Where love was in the air
Beautiful gowns, and even more beautiful women wearing them

But my glass slipper has already been shattered
And the once sweet chorus of birds
Became the fears that flutter my mind

My dreams may have turned from flowers to thorns
And true love may never find me
Yet still I wish for happily ever after
Or maybe just happy.
Sometimes.