I used to believe in fairy tales
that magic reigned in the world.
I thought that people all were good
and that good always triumphed over evil.

I thought that someday, someday,
a prince in shining armor would rescue me
from my troubles,
a veritable damsel in distress.

And sometimes I believed that I was my own princess
and that I could save myself.
That I had some sort of mystical power
that could make me my own ruler.

I believed that evil forces
would all be put down by the good.
That there was a clear distinction
between the bad guys and the good ones.

I believed that Santa watched me,
that he smiled upon my life.
And that the tooth fairy took my teeth
and cherished them, kept them safe.

I believed that I had magic in my heart
like everyone else around me.
That everyone was special,
and that everyone was good.

I thought that friendship was forever,
that families were always happy.
I thought there was no unhappiness
that beauty was all there is.

I believed everything that everyone told me,
like the innocent, naive fool I was.
I truly believed in happiness,
that there was good in every person.

And too late my eyes were opened
I was cast into an unfriendly world.
That had no time for beauty and goodness,
that thought fairy tales were lies.

My belief has gradually faded,
don’t see magic anymore.
Hurry about daily life,
my mind programmed to forget.

But sometimes, just sometimes,
in a lovely blossom or sweet smile.
In true and noble heart, or bird’s clear song,
I see the magic, believe in those fairy tales again.