A Grim Fairy Tale
I was born a girl
whose parent’s died.
Then given to others
whose social status was high.
Papa, the king, but died in war.
Mama, the queen, who didn’t marry more.
An eternal scowl upon her face
as she kept her daily pace.
Hair pinned high upon her head.
“Do this!” “Do that!” She constantly said
and when I’d do one thing wrong
she’d scold me, yelling “Cinderella!”, for hours long.
And once she was done with what she said
I’d get back to work again.
But one day I got fed up.
Ran up my tower and closed the door up.
My window, the only way out
but Mama barged in, stopping in mid-shout.
But I just turned back and smiled
and then I fell a thousand miles.
And I lay among the trees
my spirit, at last, forever free.
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