A Childhood Myth
August 4, 2013 § 4 Comments
My body weeps
For the childhood myth
That once existed inside
A foolish fantasy
Of happy endings
White horses roaming green pastures
Grand castles reaching the stars
And gingerbread villages in between
My own private fairytale
But the walls once stable
With butter cream frosting
Have caved in
Lying broken, molding
Leaving me empty
Unknowing what to believe in
Not even Rapunzle’s golden hair
Can save me from the decaying happiness
Aww. There’s magic left in that heart. One who can write this, can be sure of it. And that magic will call out to the magic that’s somewhere in this world, to unite with it. I don’t know why I think so, but life has a way of doing that.
Sometimes innocence is not naivety, but a conscious choice. And then we will be loved for that.
Oh and if you can, look up the song Not Like The Movies by KC Concepcion on YouTube. Like your poem, it is sad, but you can distinctly still taste the magic left over.
I like that song, irisoniris :) You are correct, the magic is still there but sometimes you just have to let go and see what returns. “Sometimes innocence is not naivety, but a conscious choice. And then we will be loved for that” this especially spoke to me, thank you!
Reblogged this on dropsoffsunshine.