Disguised as a boy
Sent from the heavens
Like I was Helen of Troy.
I had troubles imagining
What he would wear,
If he'd have wings and a halo,
Or be riding a mare.
I let down my hair,
I fell into slumber,
I left my glass slipper,
I waited and wondered.
But I'm not a princess
Who can be saved,
My life is a prison,
And I am it's slave.
"We're a fairytale", he said,
And I let that persist,
I should have known better,
Those don't exist.
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