Goldilocks the Trespasser
deep in the woods where shadows creep,
where secrets lurk and willows weep,
a girl in rags with locks of gold
walked paths where none but ghosts grew old.
a house she found--quaint, warm, and neat,
with honeyed air and scents so sweet,
but locked doors made her fingers twitch--
what’s theft to those who dare be rich?
inside she stepped, no fear, no shame,
no knock, no word, no rightful claim,
she stole their food, she broke their chairs,
her laughter danced on midnight air.
"too hot, too cold--oh, this will do!"
"too hard, too soft--I'll take from you!"
"this bed is mine, I'll rest my head--"
"what fools to leave their home unsaid!"
but as she slept in stolen rest,
a heavy step, a growling chest--
the owners came, with fangs and claws,
with sharpened teeth and sharpened laws.
"A thief! A rat! A filthy pest!"
"She dares to steal, to break, to rest?!"
"No mercy here! No tale rewrites--"
"A meal she’ll make on this dark night."
three pairs of claws, three snarling throats,
no prince to save, no fairy's notes--
just echoes left, a lesson grim,
on what befalls the ones who sin.
and in the woods, the whispers say,
beware the thief who dares betray--
for locks of gold may shine so bright,
but stolen things bring no delight.
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