I'm all alone, and I wait.
I cry, but my life was once great.
I once had a loving dad,
Who never shouted nor got mad.
But that has all changed,
My stepmother is deranged.
I sleep and live in the cellar,
Poor little Cinderella
Come and do your job, rings a deceitful snob.
I wait on them hand and foot,
I clean their house, clothes to boot.
Then I sleep covered in soot,
I work to my own boot.
Come I have another task; you must do all I ask.
Another day: another chore.
I'm not content but do not bore.
Though my arms are aching sore,
I've been worked to my core.
And will be worked there again.
A bell in the distance it does ring, Come and work it does sing.
How I dream of far off things, all I get is clocks that ding.
I sit here and dream, As I stich and seam.
Of a handsome prince, not tough old mince.
Far off lands no splinters in my hand.
Fancy hair and dress; not cleaning more mess.
Through continuous drone, I do not moan.
I have to leave it be, there is no point to me.
In the house someone calls, daydreams have to pause and stall.
I only speak to birds and mice,
To have a friend would be nice.
Someone to talk to when I'm sore,
Someone exciting; not a bore
We would laugh and talk,
We could run and walk.
And somewhere in despair,
I'd find someone who cared.
A maid's job is never done, more cleaning; what fun!
I wish life was different,
But you can't alter the past.
You can only alter clothes,
To make sure they last.
As I finish what I said, I have to go make tea and bed.
I've forgotten all I said; too much is in my head.
There's too much in my hand; for anyone to understand.
But still I need a confide,
A person whose comments wouldn't be snide
Before I reach breaking
Someone prove that I'm still worth the taking.
I won't kill my dream; but no one is keen.
Before this is the end, I really need a friend.
And again off I go, rushing to and from.
Guess all I can say; is just to be nice to me.
At the end of the day; all the change I can see.