A Raconteur Girl Production


Good Enough

Rach and the Prince - I hate the day



Good Enough





Once Upon a time

I thought you were my prince

You were Mr. Perfect

Of that I was convinced


I thought you were clever

I considered you wise

You were so wonderful

A treasure, a fantastical prize


You weren’t  a flirt

And you wouldn’t hide

You were exactly like me

I thought with naive pride


You were my friend

You would look out for me

And one day you’d carry me off

On your dashing white steed


I imbued you with all the qualities

Of the man I imagined you to be

I thought you were the one

The only one for me


And although the question niggled

Was I good enough for you?

I never picked up

Just asking that should’ve been a clue


Then once upon a time

I woke up to watch helpless as you ran

I heard lying words on your lips

And realised my prince was made of sand


There was no Mr. Perfect

In fact, there was no man

There was just a boy

And his big marching band


You had to keep up

You had to sing along

You feared to be different

And so you just marched on and on


You weren’t looking out for me

There was no dashing steed

There was just you

And there was just me


At the time I was crushed

Disappointed to realise

You were just as flawed as me

You were no fantastical prize


But looking back I laugh

Because now I plainly see

The question I should’ve been asking was:

Were you good enough for me?








“He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file has already earned my contempt. 

He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would fully suffice.” 

~ Albert Einstein



“A man must consider what a rich realm he abdicates when he becomes a conformist.”

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson



“Ideals are like stars; you will not succeed in touching them with your hands. 

But like the seafaring man on the desert of waters, you choose them as your guides,

and following them you will reach your destiny.”

– Carl Schurz, address, Faneuil Hall, Boston, 1859



“Bachelors’ wives and old maids’ children are always perfect.”

– Nicholas Chamfort



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