No Fairy Tales

I can remember stories, those things my mother said. She told me fairy tales before I went to bed. She spoke of happy endings then tucked me in real tight. She turned my night light on and kissed my face good night. My mind would fill with visions of perfect paradise. She told me everything, she said he'd be so nice. He'd ride up on his horse and take me away one night. I'd be so happy with him, we'd ride clean out of sight. She never said that we would, curse, cry and scream and lie. She never said that maybe, someday he'd say goodbye. The story ends, as stories do. Reality steps into view. No longer living life in paradise of fairy tales. She spoke about happy endings, of stories not like this. She said he'd slay all dragons, defeat the evil prince. She said he'd come to save me, swim through the stormy seas. I'd understand the story, it would be good for me. You never came to save me, you let me stand alone. Out in the wilderness, alone in the cold. My story end, as stories do. Reality steps into view. No longer living life in paradise. No fairy tales. You never came to save me, you let me stand alone. Out in the wilderness, alone in the cold. I found no magic potion, no horse with wings to fly. I found the poison apple, my destiny to die. No royal kiss could save me, no magic spell to spin. My fantasy is over, my life must now begin. My story end, as stories do. Reality steps into view. No longer living life in paradise. No fairy tales... ~Anita Baker

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