Poetry

I used to sit around all day.. and dream of what could be..
Then I'd cry myself to sleep.. when I faced reality,
I used to think, that things would change.. just like a "fairy tale"..
I'd walked around with blinders on.. saw the world through a vail,
I believed that someone, somewhere.. was made "just for me"..
But I know now, how wrong I was.. what a fool I came to be,
"True love" isn't something real.. and there is no "ment to be"..
Faity tales are "stories".. that they want us to believe,
Nothing that I know today.. is truly as it seems..
And I can't prove "reality" .. is more real than my "dreams",
So I take each day that comes to me.. expecting nothing more..
For I've let go of any dreams.. that you'd walk through that door.
                                       sg