Cinderella, black boxes, wishing stars

Little black boxes
and pumpkin cars
happy, singing crickets
make a wish on shooting stars

Bitter, red lines
on Princess's skin
Reader, didn't you know?
even angels sin..

But lock it all up
the ball's ever near
hides behind her mask
fake smiles, real tears

But twirl so pretty
silken gowns, happy face
masquerade dances
spinning, filled with grace

Oh, beautiful black box
forgetten in time
and the stroke of midnight hour
takes away the "just fine"

But the pumpkin never shows
and Cinderella sits alone
wishing on a falling star
only wanting a solid home

Poor little girl
so alone, so afraid
makeup all smudged
hair loose from its braid

The clock strikes three
and she's still by herself
realizes falling stars
are of absolutely no help

Say good night to Princess
she's still sitting on the steps
magic glass slippers, black boxes
how easily we forget

* inspired by a conversation ((or argument, i don't know))*