A crown of diamonds, not her style
facing the crowd with a genuine smile
Neither castle nor prim and proper's art
Like a pauper, she wears her heart.
No glass slipper, but sneakers on her feet
No long locks, just a pixie cut neat
Scars clothed her skin, not snow-like and smooth
No magic carpet, just barefoot, her truth.
A prince once came, promises in his eyes
To save her from despair, under darkened skies
Yet the magic faded, leaving her alone
In the wilderness, her heart turned to stone.
After the storm, she'll rise once more
True love's kiss not what she's searching for
Strength within, after the pain
Not a princess, but a queen to reign.
BINABASA MO ANG
DEAR SELF,
PoetryHear love's bittersweet song, Loss and discovery, where hearts belong. Through verses deep, emotions unfold, A journey of self, in stories untold. Join this odyssey of love and strife, In "Dear Self," find the essence of self-love. (A collection of...
