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The princess would not awake.
It makes for a very short story,
One that falls into a crevice of
Broken-off thoughts and deleted feelings.
You are not there yet.
Sugar, honey, with some magical powder,
Only makes for an explosive sweet concotion.
Where is your savior now?
Someone once said that people daydream of being saved,
But sometimes you have to save yourself.
You think that's stupid; you are always saving yourself.
You feel bad because you can't draw or dance well,
You can't sing a note and you aren't one bit smart.
All you have inside of you are random words and phrases that you usually
Can't put to real sentences (you're failing English
Because of this).
What's going on inside of you is something
No one can see behind those dead grass eyes,
That smile people say is cute because of the chipped tooth,
(Honestly, chipping it hurt like anything; how is that attractive?)
And the words that come from your olive-round mouth,
But inside -
It's just another fairytale with a bad ending,
An ocean that buries a great glass city,
A little girl with a broken lollipop and skinned knees,
Another person shooting the school bullies.
Inside is just a collection of joined, 'I'm fine's.