Every Cinderella has an evil stepmother,
I do.
But mine was my mother
Rather than the woman that married my father,
That woman was my fairy godmother.
She turned my pumpkin
Into a magnificent carriage,
She turned my rags
Into a beautiful ball gown,
She used her magic wand
And she gave me my happily ever after,
The happily ever after I had always heard about
But I never thought I would have.
YOU ARE READING
𝒴ℴ𝓊'𝓇ℯ ℴ𝓃 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 ℴ𝓌𝓃 𝓀𝒾𝒹 － 𝒶 𝒷ℴℴ𝓀 ℴ𝒻 𝓅ℴℯ𝓂𝓈
Poetry𝒶 𝒸ℴ𝓁𝓁ℯ𝒸𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 𝒽ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒻ℯ𝓁𝓉 𝓅ℴℯ𝓂𝓈 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽ℯ ℴ𝓁𝒹ℯ𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈， 𝓂𝒾𝓇𝓇ℴ𝓇𝒷𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓈， 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁𝒾ℯ𝓈 ℯ𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂ℴ𝓂𝓂𝓎 𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓊ℯ𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉ℴ 𝒷ℯ 𝓊𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇𝓈𝓉ℴℴ𝒹．
