The Glass Slipper

A story I once heard
So very long ago.
A tale of a maiden
Whose days are filled with woe.

The dawn breaks over distant snow-capped mountains.
She rises from the ground,
And begins her daily tasks while
The house is asleep, sound.

An invitation sealed in royal gold.
Her stepsisters dizzily prepare for the ball
As she’s told she should be grateful she’s allowed
To attend at all.

One thing gone wrong;
Privilege is snatched away.
“Remain home and finish cleaning;
You will not be attending any balls today.”

Her dreams are crushed like petals underfoot,
But hope arrives in a tiny sparkling glass slipper.
A petite fairy grandmother slides it on her foot,
The fit is perfect; she could not be more chipper.

Dress rippling like the silver stream,
She arrives in a whirl of beauty.
One dance with a Prince;
The glass slipper reflects the night sky so starry.

Midnight interrupts a daydreamer;
The Prince’s hold, like a shaft of the brightest sunlight,
Is roughly pulled away.
A flash of red and all that’s left is the feeling that this is not right.

She had thought it was destiny.
Two hearts intertwined so flawlessly,
But he never looked back.
He never looked back at she.

Run. Out the gate as the clouds move in over her head,
Glass slippers stumble, no longer shining.
Away from abandonment and sorrow,
She collapses, in the earth, weeping.

A thing of hope so clear and dazzling,
Full of promise, ready to make it better,
Crashes on the stones.
See the dream as it shatters.





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