Peter never understood why Wendy was meant to grow up
why she had to leave the blissfulness of Neverland

If there's an answer to his questions it would be that
she was dreaming of castles and voyages and someone to love
while he was mischieving pirates,chasing a never setting sun

I often wander if I'm more like her,
sincere, gentle, a duchess-to-be
a young girl who dwells in stories

or like the boy who wouldn't grow up,
nonchalant, full of lovely wonderful thoughts,
Peter Pan,the one who could fly

But what did he do when she left?
Is she a beautiful memory in a child's mind,
why didn't he abandon immortality for love?

Here's Wendy, back in Kensington Gardens
a lady asking herself what if I had stayed
why couldn't he abandon youth for her love?

And she will forever remain in his mind as a little girl,
who played family with and dreamed
but Wendy will be married and will be kissed
but not with him.

And Peter will always be a chasing dream,
a fairyland with pirates and ships,
a world of villains, mermaids and the boy who
didn't return her kiss.

I read, imagining his crooked smile growing up
or her staying forever
and none of these feels completely right

In the end, I am another lost boy who went to Neverland,
and flew and fought with a sword, and swam with mermaids
and danced around fire with the eyes of Tiger Lilly

Sometimes there I return, finding him lost in her thoughts,
but there again everyone's forgotten among the things we never say...

That taste, he will always taste.
His memory misses, what can't be replaced.
Her look, that smile on here face.
Those precious kisses, and how they were placed.

People see what they want to see, so in all reality- what does that have to do with me? If it was up to me, I'd be me. But instead, I play my part in society, so people don't riot me. Ended up hating myself; more than I hate me. So I change every thing that's real, so the fake will be just like me. Real recognize real; sounds simple to me. Just try explaining that to society. Whatever I lack in swag, they'll buy for me.

Too expensive for my taste; Hit Walmart and I'm Gucci, down to the socks. Rings and watch, filled with fake rocks; looking like I got crazy loot- see me, on the street. Somebody shoot - me; for my, jewelry - that's stupid. But don't blame me; I'm society.

I'm being trendy thing, in spite of me. Everything is really real, everything but me. Cover girl issues, making up for free. Hating myself, because society told me, what to think of me. Had all my freckles removed; woke up the next day. Society decided they were ****; why didn't anyone text me.

Mirror on mirror on the wall, amazing grace, respond to call. Who is the sickest of them all? As I watch the hands fall, face forward, right off the wall. Million pieces, scattered wall-to-wall; Society reflected on every piece, as I collected them all.

Believe what you may, its your call. Or wait until Society drops the ball, and blames us all.