The things we wish upon
In children’s movies, there are often things that are longer for,
It might be a hidden world, a fairy godmother, a map or a key.
Watching these has a child, it always gave me wonder.
It kept aflame a light inside of me.
Now I’m sitting in the whispers of the night,
I know now that those promises were nothing but a façade,
I feel for the first time what people call your inner child.
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She is telling me something,
I can barely hear her,
She is telling me she wants to go home,
She wants some place to have, to see, and feel.
She wants safety but its not coming,
Oh inner child, don’t you know that the glass slipper is cracked, the pumpkin stays a pumpkin, and the midnight comes too soon.
Not every wish finds its way home.
Not every lost child find the doorway to Wonderland.
The clock keeps ticking, and the storybook closes
