I’m fighting for something that doesn’t exist
And ignoring the fact that there’s no real prince
We’re led to believe with childhood fairytales
That there are knights on white horses
and women remain frail
Yet when the story unfolds the real play
The opposite is true; that he won’t save our day
But we continue to chase rainbows for our pot of gold
Not realizing that it’s getting old
Until one day we wake up to find
All the gold we left behind
Dear friends and paths we should have taken
Many lives we have forsaken
For the only good part was the dream of the prince
But when the dream is gone
So is the bliss
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem