They say the stars speak in your eyes,
comets, cosmic truths, prophetess of skies.
I know I haven’t got a clue.
That’s why I shyly shadow you.
Hoping you’ll look, and see me through
my crazy little life.
Mythic fairy tales come true.
Or so they say, if we pray and pay what’s due.
I want the omnibus surprise,
the chance to truly realize
what lies behind the veiled disguise
of my crazy little life.
You treat me like I am not here.
You turn away, whisper “I’m no seer.”
But when I look into your eyes
the clouds whirl right out of the skies
and for that moment I am wise,
full of hope, full focus clear.
Why can’t you see I’m, just like you,
a fairy tale becoming true
through all the struggle, all the strife
of this crazy little life.



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