Of cinders and ashes and broken promises
Of love or hate, apathy or pain
Of hope or moving on, of staying still or letting
go
How does one really know what to do?
The once glittery carriage has turned into pumpkin
I should have known, it’s not a fairytale I am
livin’
Where princes turn into frogs and start breaking
your heart
Where princesses are just maids wishing for a new
start.
I am in a pumpkin-arsed carriage still looking for
salvation.
How do I look up when I know that
I am no Cinderella after all.
