When the Clock Strikes 12
When the clock strikes 12,
my dress will turn
into the old rags I wear
while mopping and cleaning
my small board house.
When the clock strikes 12,
I will disappear,
and my prince will come to find me.
But it will be difficult to say it was me,
when my wicked stepsister
keeps deceiving him.
When the clock strikes 12,
I’m not sure I will be able
to admit that I was there—
that I was the one
at his ball,
the one he danced with.
When the clock strikes 12,
I pray that everything
returns to normal,
and that I am not left
living with someone else’s prince.
When the clock strikes 12,
I hope that time never repeats,
and that everything returns to normal,
where family gathers and meets.
When the clock strikes 12,
we will surely be
whatever we want to be,
& wherever we want to be.
When the clock strikes 12,
where love meets, it will remain or change.
But when the clock strikes 12,
love will surely grow.
Poetic Works of Petra Fafina Marina Patrice
© 2025 · All Rights Reserved
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Author:
Fína Elara 🌙 Petra Patrice (
Offline) - Published: September 19th, 2025 12:42
- Category: Love
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Fína Elara 🌙 Petra Patrice, Vogelfrei, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments3
The Cinderella story in poem and a lovely write at that. Expectations, worries, hopes all based on what happens in relationships. Loved it
Yes🙌 lol sometimes life can be similar to the story. Thank you. Appreciate it. ✨
You are most welcome
May that love always grow Petra even if the clock stops.
Andy
Thank you Andy, I appreciate it.
My friend, I’ve known that same tension between fear of being unseen and the hope of love enduring. You’ve woven that feeling beautifully into the Cinderella motif. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛ Well done and a fave!
Thank you
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