Childhood.

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.

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