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Mora Feldgrau Jul 2014
bask in the glory of all of the lies
watch as everyone else mystifies
at the telling of such faux tales
the idiocy will soon tip the scales
I hope to be not the antagonist
There're stories untold
But I want mine to have happy endings
Just like the old days
When I used to believe in fairy tales.

I am Cinderella
I should be home every midnight
My job was wearing me out
Can't even buy myself
A new pair of shoes
I used to walk miles for years
In order to attain education.

With my eyes that are blind
I wanna see the world
To enjoy life to the fullest
But they who call me Beast
Had entrapped me with absolute darkness
I was the only one left
A survivor of the great fire in our compound
I got my face burnt
And the world has shuttered from vision.

I am her Knight
Not in shining armour
I love her since we were in High School
But she who was my princess not know
And whenever I'm near her
I can't even utter words
To show my feelings out.

They told me I have a lot of potentials
My Mom encouraged me to dream big
For she herself once didn't own one
She asked me to do this and that
Wishing I could be successful someday
But she was murdered by Cancer
All she ever told me
May never come true
For now, I'm simply the Jeanie in the bottle.

I went to the Land of Free
And undergo enhancement several times
I took so much pills
I hold on to myself and became disciplined
In order to achieve this great body
But why do the society keeps on judging?
I know I was manly
I just wanna be happy
Can't they see
The Sleeping Beauty inside of me?

The world is indeed in the dark
All wanna believe in fairy tales
For they seek happiness alone
To not be judged but be loved
To be accepted and have the reason to live.

We don't know the stories behind those lies
Behind the misconception of true beauty
The game became Hide and Seek
Just like how the Dark urges to defeat the Light.

We aren't the masters of our lives
We are characters of different stories
Strangers in the pages of others' journeys
The great Author knows every timeline.

One thing I'm sure is:
There's always a happy ending for us
For it was already written
We just have to believe and trust
The One who wrote ours.
Michael Amery Jul 2014
I do not love you as Romeo loved Juliet, tragic misunderstanding, spurned by society's blind perception.

You are no angel sent from heaven above, God's promise made flesh just for me.

We are not soul mates separated by time yet brought back together by Cupid's arrow.  

I am not a frog prince whose kiss will wake you from your long aimless sleep.

Your dragons are you own, good luck slaying them.

I will not build you a tower to look down upon me from above,
Nor will I climb it in some idiotic feat to win your passing fancy.

My love for you is not some tale told by faeries to orphans to give hope of a better life, of a love for each and every one of us, tragic as it may be.

I love you, simply.
For Alice (Who used to be me)

I have believed in fairy tales
Once I walked in worlds of rosy hue
I lived in Wonderland and Counterpane
dreaming dreams I knew would all come true

Morning turns to noon day to evening all too soon
Oz can turn to ashes in just a day
Princes return as frogs to their lily pads
Wonderlands Alice is a matron growing grey

No one comes to kiss the princess as she sleeps,
Knights in shining armor ride no more.
Tinker bell is dying with no one to believe.
The Mad Hatter is laughing at the door.

The dragon is not slain but lives in glory
Roxanne always marries Christian after all
Cinderella sits forever midst the ashes
Too late for Alice the door is much to small

The Emerald City's walls are bottle glass
And reality has crushed them neath its heel
The yellow brick road leads nowhere very quickly
And Alice knows that lonely is the only thing she'll feel

oh! let alice return to Wonderland again,
Away from the mud and slime outside the looking glass.
Life is much to large without that tiny door,
And she would seek the March Hares party where time will never pass.
This poem was written by my late grandmother, I found it in her things after she passed. She wrote many poems, but this has to be one of my favorites.
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