Poetry is love ❤
I was raised on ball gowns and fairies,
Stories that shimmered on my eye lids.
Like lost stars from far away galaxies.
Childhood was spent wearing crowns,
That glittered deep , endless gold –
A sea of royal colours and truths.
Once I thought that I might be
Something more than ordinary.
For my mother taught me that belief
Is the last ingredient of magic.
This could be a story of disappointment.
Of learning the world’s cruelties.
But no , that’s not the point.
The point is , Little girls are magic.
The point is , This is my story.
The point is , I believe in fairies
The point is , The crown still fits.
The crown always fits.