walking on glass,
slave to the time that passes.
in the cover of midnight.
scarred by life's falling ashes.
Cinderella, can't you see?
we are all the same.
standing tall with bruised knees,
singing through the pain.
dancing in dreams,
in hopes of escaping fate's tendrils.
masked from reality,
deep down, we're all going mental.
until midnight rings,
love, we're all walking on glass.
and the slippers won't fit,
if the hour of dreaming doesn't pass.
YOU ARE READING
Words to My Demons | Poetry ✔️
Poetry❝she was simple, an angel born without wings. yet she was special, an enchanting song her lost soul sings. ❞ A dark and deep poetry collection of every little thing that makes us both unique and insane. ~ Highest ranking in Poetry: #7 ~ 1st Place in...