Fairy Tale
by: Tiger Lily21
A/N: I feel it's only right to let you know that this poem is completely fictional. It is not based on my personal life in any way. I have a very good relationship with both my parents, who are still happily married and who do not abuse me in any way. I wrote this poem for a school assignment that required us to write a poem about oppression. After a struggle (I'm not too good with poems and I didn't like the topic) I finally came up with this. I realized after I wrote it that it might cause people to think I'm abused or something. I've emailed my teacher assuring him that that's not the case and I wanted to assure you too.
Now please read the poem, and remember, while I am not abused in any way, there are young women out there who are in abusive homes. I think that's very sad, and I wish it wasn't so.
Oh! Also, the spacing has gotten all messed up on here. There are supposed to be stanzas. I don't know how to fix it or I would. So you know, each stanza begins and end with two repeated lines. When you see the same lines again, that's the end of the stanza. (So the first one starts out "I am Cinderella/This is my sorry tale" and ends with those same two lines.) I don't know if that makes it any clearer but, well...just read the poem, okay?
I am Cinderella.
This is my sorry tale.
It is not the story you have heard.
It does not end happily.
This is my sorry tale.
I am Cinderella.
I am Elaine.
I live a fine life.
Our manor house is grand and beautiful.
We have servants to do all the work.
I live a fine life.
I am Elaine.
I love my father.
He is my world.
He is the only one who really loves me.
He is the one who keeps me safe.
He is my world.
I love my father.
I do not know my mother.
She is distant and cool.
She acts out the motions of motherhood,
But there is no real love there.
She is distant and cool.
I do not know my mother.
My father is dead.
He is gone forever.
No more will I run to him for comfort,
Nor hear his kind voice as I fall asleep.
He is gone forever.
My father is dead.
My mother does not cry.
She does not miss my father.
She goes through the motions of grief,
But I see her looking at another man.
She does not miss my father.
My mother does not cry.
I have a new father.
He is cold and harsh.
His pale eyes glitter with cruel intent,
And his fist flies out to crush my face.
He is cold and harsh.
I have a new father.
I have brothers.
They are disgusting and rude.
They leave their filth about the house,
They leer at me and call me horrid names.
They are disgusting and rude.
I have brothers.
My mother is dead.
She died at my stepfather's hand.
He struck her hard and she fell,
Toppling to the floor in a lifeless heap.
She died at my stepfather's hand.
My mother is dead.
I am a servant.
I must work to live.
I cook and clean in silence.
Resistance, I have learned, brings only pain.
I must work to live.
I am a servant.
I try to run.
I must escape this house.
I pack my bag in the night,
And try to slip out the window.
I must escape this house.
I try to run.
I am caught!
My brother heard the window creak.
He grabs my hair and throws me to the floor.
I lie in a heap to wait for punishment.
My brother heard the window creak.
I am caught!
My stepfather is angry.
His eyes gleam in the firelight.
He knocks me to the floor with a blow.
I will never leave this house again
His eyes gleam in the firelight.
My stepfather is angry.
There is no escape.
I am trapped like a mouse.
No one will come to save me.
There is no prince, no fairy godmother.
I am trapped like a mouse.
There is no escape.
I go to my father.
I have found peace at last.
No more will I serve the wicked men.
I have left it all behind.
I have found peace at last.
I go to my father.
I am Cinderella.
You have heard my tale.
It is not for children's ears,
And has no happy ending.
You have heard my tale.
I am Cinderella.