Dear God up above, I know it’s all written by you, I’m your story.
You are the director, the creator of this pretty little crowning glory.
Recording the little nuances, there are cameras rolling all around,
The hair and make-up done, the dialogues prepared and perfect sound.
I haven’t heard an ‘action’ or a ‘cut’ yet, but I’m playing my part,
I guess each shot is perfect, as acting resides deep in my heart.
Humming my own romantic tune I waltz and serenade,
But there is a rough side too, which when needed could through a grenade.
I fall in love each day, sometimes even with myself,
I need no prince charming, this Snowhite doesn’t even need an elf.
Thanks to the high this life gives me, I’m flimsy, I fumble,
I can never walk a straight path, I stumble.
After all what do you expect from a girl marching in a 5 inch,
Living in a world of fantasy she wouldn’t even wakeup if you pinch.
There are a few curves as I travel through life’s topsy-turvy lands,
Curves beyond the obvious ones, the curly hair and the lines of my hands.
A whisper in the ear, a silken dress with some sheer,
A glass of champagne held perfectly my dear!
With expressions I will narrate endless terrible tiny tales and go on and on about,
The stories of my life and flirt through the night, even without a pout.
At times the character keeps on thinking for too long, a lot I wonder,
And even before I realise the thoughts become destructive and turn into such a blunder.
This is the fairy-tale of a careless flimsy female’s fantasy fortress,
Where she lives praising lord’s creations, the movie and a lot with which she can impress.