Methfairytale

I’m not Cinderella, though I’ve been up cleaning most the night,

I love my Prince Charming, even though we always fight.

I haven’t lost my glass slipper, I wear them on the pole,

all for the packet, I’d sell my very soul.

I am no Snow White, although my skin is very pale,

my evil stepmum called the cops on me, now I’m on a bus to jail.

The apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree,

give it a couple of weeks, and she’ll be right in here with me.

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I am no Sleeping Beauty, I get no beauty rest,

parole RIP’d me, I didn’t pass the damn drug test.

My spinning needle comes in a brown paper bag,

I used to be so beautiful, now I look like an old hag.

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I’m not belle of the ball, not the very least,

but we have something in common, I’m in love with a beast.

But the beast is not a person but a drug that I call meth,

I’ve been talking to myself for hours, I’m running out of breath.

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There are no happy endings, no true love’s first kiss,

happiness eludes me, real love is what I miss.

There is no Prince Charming, there is no horse and cart,

I wish that I had just said no before I’d ever start.