I go out wearing jeans and vans and worry how I look. 

Childhood fantasies are over. Life is not a story book.

People judge me in an instant. I do care what others say.

And the things I love the most in life all seem to fade away. 

There is no such thing as magic. I was foolish to believe. 

This whole world is full of troubles. How could I have been naive?

I remember how alive I felt back when I didn't know 

How life gets harder as I age and how these pains can grow.   

I wish I could return to when I didn't have to hide.

When I was who I really am and said what came to mind. 

But it's too late. I've seen the truth. All fairytales have ended. 

Happy endings don't exist. Some plots just can't be mended.