We heard she was beautiful,
Graceful and kind.
She was a flower blooming
To greet the sun.
They said she was cursed;
She was under a spell.
On her sixteenth year,
She would prick her finger
On a spinning wheel
And sleep forever.
We were told she would wake
Only to true love’s kiss.
We all wanted to be that one.
So we searched for the castle
Where she was kept.
I was the one
Who found it.
I fought through a labyrinth
Of thorns and vines,
Dragons and witches,
Until I reached the center.
I found the princess.
I saw she was ugly,
Wrinkled and old—
A weed that had shriveled
Without any light.
She was most definitely cursed.
Cobwebs grew between her fingers.
Moss grew from her dress.
Birds had made their homes
In her hair.
I was told she would wake
Only to true love’s kiss.
Alas, I decided
I was not her true love
And left.