Roses on the street.

This is my version of Cinderella's story, only its in poetry form. Enjoy!-


Cinderella, roses on the street.

I’m sick of this fairytale,
These children stories have grown stale.
Come, gather at my feet.
Come and let me tell you of my story, the roses on the street.

Now in the beginning I’m quite sure you’ve heard, my mother died.
I can’t believe they wrote that down, I can’t believe they lied.
My mother did not die, she simply left.
She left me alone, she left me bereft.

Now, you’ll probably wonder “But didn’t your father stay?”
Yes, my father was with me until his dieing day.
But he left more with me than you might care to know,
His loving act, I’ll admit was a well-acted show.

My father left me with a immense amount of pain,
My father left me impure, a living stain.
Now, don’t be shocked or give me pity you think I want to hear.
But yes my father raped me, more than once after a bit too much beer.

Why do you think my step-hated me? Why would she despise me so,
Unless of course I was favored more, father’s ‘love’ made me an ever present foe.
But he died one day, of a mystery illness or some rumored a spell.
It’s amazing what the servants will let you put in a drink when you know them so well.

What, didn’t think I was capable of murder? My hands are stained with blood, hidden behind simple lace.
But you’d never know it to look at me, never if you saw my face.
For I am a most talented liar.
And even I well admit, I’ll probably go to hell…but, I’ll take my chances in the fire.

Now for my step sisters, those two bumbling chatter birds.
Its amazing what you can get people to believe, with a soft smile and pretty words.
I obeyed their commands, their mothers as well. I polished the silver, the gold so bright.
I smiled as I did my work, wishing them nothing but misery and blight.

But one day came news of a charming young prince, some little upstart.
It seemed he refused to marry, although he held many a noble girls heart.
So his father the king, bless that foolish old codger and his inane ways,
Decided his son would find a girl, by the end of the full moons rays.

So he’d set up dance, for all the young ladies to attend.
So the young bachelor would find someone, an effort I commend.
So the gaggling half wits I was forced to lived with pampered themselves up for the event,
An effort to say the least, that was poorly spent.
They were too awkward, too cold and too mean.
Their appearance regardless, I highly doubt they’d be seen.

So I stayed out home, my mind occasionally wandering to the grand palace on the hill.
But, what’s the point of imagining what you can’t have? A useless, gratifying thrill.
I went outside, for a breathe of fresh air.
But what I found in the courtyard, oh how I gaped, I could only stare!

For their in the center, by the old rowan tree,
Stood a lady in silvery splendor, looking directly at me.
Her cloak fastened from furs unknown,
Her face, so lovely, was the only feature shown.

She was young, a maiden in glorious, almost divine light.
Her eyes gold and caressed with pink, like a dawn drawing down the night.
She smiled, she glowed, she shown like a star fallen from the arches of the skies.
“Cinderella, Cinderella, I’ve heard your pleas and cries.”

I gasped, who was this woman? How did she know who I was?
“Your quite a story in the land of the fae, everyone’s a chatter and all a buzz.”
Me? People, no, Faeries, knew me? How, why?
“Despite your flaws my dear, you have the potential to lift your wings and fly.

Now here is where my story really came to start
The one many of you know by heart.
From dust of the stars she fastened a gown,
From mice to horses, a rat to man, and carriage from a pumpkin so round.

But, the most famous part of this tale, my glass slippers you all know.
But how did those come into being, how did they assist me to the show?
From a nearby bush, she took to small petals and tossed them in the wind,
With a flick of her wand, they twisted, they turned, they began to bend.

Those white roses became the shoes on my feet,
That carried me to the carriage drawn by horses so fleet.
And to the place where I met my love,
To the place where I rose above.

But midnight struck, I ran out the door.
How he would hate me, a little servant whore!
I left behind one tiny little clew,
I left behind one glass shoe.

When he knocked on my door, you can believe my surprise.
Oh, how I hope he wouldn’t see me, and see through my disguise!
But, I was both bitter and happy when he did not.
But I was stunned to hear why brought him to this place, with terror I was fraught!

He was here to find the owner of that bedamndable shoe.
Here to find the mystery behind that tiny glass clue.
He tried it on one step sisters foot, he tried it on the other.
Hell, he even tried it on their mother!

But, his servant caught sight and insisted I try it on as well.
This was my punishment, a true sentence to hell,
He would see me in rags, see me in filth and dirt.
His disappointment…oh God, how it would hurt!

But he surprised us all with cry of pleasure,
He threw me into a hug, and I was in rapture beyond measure.
And thus began my happily ever after,
Well…almost.

After our wedding in the courtyard of my old home,
We stood near a priest reading from some ancient tome.
He surprised me most we he called me his little white rose,
I could feel myself blushing, from my head down to my toes.

As we left in carriage, I sat with my slipper in my lap and pondered its fate.
What could it do without its twin, the one that passed as of late.
My prince smiled, and told me I should do what I thought best.
So I hurled it over my shoulder, toward the sun setting in the west.

What I never got see though, was woman all in white appear.
She picked the thing up, and mumbled a faint ‘Oh dear.’
With a flick of her want it turned to an alabaster flower on the street once more,
She tucked it into the dress she wore.

She wished me good luck, she wished me farewell.
And with a sweep of her wand she disappeared….and to where I’ll never tell.