Prince Charming slays the beast, kisses the princess awake,
yet only alarm clocks summon this queen from her fairy tale
to an ungrateful job of 6-2, 2-10, 10-6 that has failed to germinate
like the pea planted deep in her mattress.
With hair dark as hardship,
skin rooted in oppression
and standing tall as a dwarf
her foot plagued by varicose veins make her glass slipper uncomfortable.
She approaches her mirror, mirror on the wall,
the mirror, mirror that has lied to her for 26 of her 48 years
and with cocoa brown eyes,
loaded with hope for her prince and princesses,
she looks in.
Her past is just that,
a past filled with pain and pleasure.
A childhood of broken tiaras
and forgetful fairy godmothers,
consumed poisonous apples cultivated in her backyard
once upon a time.
Her world is one with deadly discriminating dragons,
a world where the fabled frog lays asleep in her borrowed bed after 26 years of empty kisses.
Robbed of her voice to request a fourth wish from an unwilling genie,
she looks for a father buried deep within his own ocean,
farther from the time when crabs and fish were friends.
Who will rescue the queen after the princess has ridden off into ever after?
She stands here, even after the colours have fade from her ill fitting ball gown…