Heroes Do Not Exist


You have been raised on fairy tale lies.
Would a prince atop his throne of golden castles
Climb a ragged tower if she was not beautiful?
Disobey the words and slap yourself awake
You are standing on a knife that cuts open your feet,
Bleeding into the soft carpet
And while you lay there,
Sleeping beneath blankets of glory and praise
Life slips from children's lips
Their innocence broken in this gnarled world
Where morality is just a flavor
Adding salt and butter to dry bread
So the rich prince on his velvet seat
Can sing his lullaby web
While the poor man's throat lies in the gutter
Unused and unheard
If only he could tell you the truth:
If the knight of your dreams ever came
He would leave before the sun set
As you sit on an empty bench
Staring into hollow air

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