Within each page is a new world,
One only these covers can hold.

Copies may be made, but still only
This true one remains.
It is as imperative to a child as
Doll to her girl.
The sensation created resembles
That of the stomach flipping on a drop.
Words scribbled, words spelled, words created;
Words in these covers.

The magic each page holds
Keeps the child overturning.
What will happen next
to the fairy? The unicorn? The princess?
Expectations held high, exceeding
That of even the general.
Will they live? Defeated will they be?

The story unfolds, meeting prospects.
Every force is conquered, every evil diminished.
The child falls asleep, knowing all is well.
Their dreams flit between the princess, unicorn,
And the ever so powerful fairy.

Awaken, the child succumbs
To the broken world around it.
Nothing is perfect, evil is not overcome.
The princess, a bird with a broken wing.
She can’t find her way, nothing is of her majesty.
The unicorn, a roaring tiger ready to devour
Its prey. Sins of the world appear in its stripes.
The fairy, her mother. Every slap
Bite, kick. She is no longer seamless.
Only between these covers, is there a fairy tale.