It doesn't matter if you can't say it right now. I'll say it for both of us. And someday you'll learn.
I'm not a princess,
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet,
Lead her up the stairwell.
This ain't Hollywood,
This is a small town.
I was a dreamer before
You went and let me down.
Now it's too late for you and your white horse
To come around.
In conclusion, my ambition is for informing literate dreamers about a new currency… in a few days, you'll know I'm conscience dreaming.
My friend (s), I'm not an atheist like you. In fact, I'm a theist. Meaning, I do believe in One Living God!
You used to call me your dreamer,
And now I'm living out my dreams;
Oh, how I wish you could see,
Everything that's happening for me.
I know you'll never stay the same
In time, most of us lose it,
But I'm hoping, just the same,
You'll shine and learn how to use it.
What I'm saying here is not, I agree, poetry,
as poems should be written rarely and reluctantly,
under unbearable duress and only with the hope
that good spirits, not evil ones, choose us for their instrument.
… and then this amazing creature -to whom no one has ever said "Shah!" or "I only hope your children will do the same to you someday!"
All I'm saying is, if you celebrate Festivus, you may live a little longer.
I'm not the pawn to your king
I'm not your world on a string
I'm not anyone you'll beat
I'm not anything