I search the shelves of my life for the book with a fairy tale ending,
So I can read it to you before you fall asleep—I’ll be the prince
And you can be the princess—can I have this dance?
Look at me, my drab clothing, eyes with nothing left
I’m no prince, I’m just Romeo and you’re my Juliet,
We all know how that story ends—you can be the poison
That ends my life and breaks my heart again.
Silver horse, hair past his chin, he’s out there your real prince charming
And I’ll be standing here when he comes, holding a bouquet of roses.
You’re gone for good, I know but what makes him royalty?
When the clock strikes midnight, why can’t you hold hands with me?
He gets the glass slipper, and I get a broom in a grocery store—
He gets to say goodnight and I’m left with another night I must forget.
Today it consumes me and tomorrow it will elude me,
I’ll be the one taking your coat while he’s the one taking your heart.
Why must I be a frog why you are clearly sleeping beauty?
Why must you be Cinderella while I’m just me?
DannYetmanhttp://yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/
0 comments:
Post a Comment