Some of us have published things we wish we hadn’t. Or wish we had enough sense to at least change the byline. My mushy love poems fall in this category.
But in my defense, that was in High School … when I was young and stupid. (Now, I’m just simply stupid.)
Blame it on the Fairy Tales
Dry your eyes, little girl, you are not to blame
For making a wish on the first bright star,
For cuddling with glass slippers and dames,
And hoping for that castle from afar.
Don’t grieve, for your are not at fault, little girl –
You grew up with the magic of Snow White,
Gave your faith to a fairy godmother,
And longed for that rose and your gallant knight
Don’t cry, little girl, for that broken dream
Of gardens, of love, of the Prince’s first kiss.
Blame the fairy tales for what could’ve been,
Now a mere veil in the clouds of pure bliss
Blame Cinderella for going to the ball,
Blame the fair Belle for transforming the Beast,
Blame them for the Prince so handsome and tall,
You knew he’d come – they promised you, at least.
Blame all the sweet vows said of forever –
For they have made your happiness fall apart.
And made you believe words of happily ever after –
Yes, blame the fairy tales for breaking your heart.
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