We were a fairytale doomed with an unhappy ending.
You were prince Harming and I was a queen with no crown.
We were more the enemy than the twosome that lives happily ever after.
We were the fairytale that looked wrong,
But felt right.
The book of us collected dust
for no one would admit
love was no fairytale.
Love looked like rusty, broken crowns,
dusty hearts, more frowns.
A fairytale set in a metropolitan town,
a love that couldn’t look up without falling down.
We were no fairytale indeed.
No fancy ballrooms, no royal steed,
no fairy Godmother to look after our needs.
No. We changed the game.
We showed the world that ‘fairytale’ was just a name.
We created stories of dungeons and dragons,
and princes with no fame.
Now little kids needn’t be fooled into thinking
love’s about waiting for a kiss
or hoping for the perfect man.
Love, now, is imperfect, and difficult
and often a nightmare.
But it does make better stories
than the ones we previously knew.
I hope someday, some little one,
is inspired by the nightmare of me and you.