This, after the ‘ever after’;
Why does no one ever talk of that?
From perfect sunsets to clichéd ‘forever’s;
That’s not how they work!
Cinderella’s shoe fit her right;
She was the destined Golden Girl
They envied, catcalled, cursed their Fates
And yet, Cinderella rode into the sunset
A handsome Prince and Palace to bag
Away from her days of drudgery…
Until it dawned
Reality wasn’t as rosy as perceived
For hardly two days after,
She turned into the bird in the proverbial golden cage.
Except, maybe worse, as her wings were grazed
No, she wasn’t meant for royalty!
She never knew what knives to use,
Or how to curtsy.
She couldn’t (as she pleased)
Smile, frown or twitch her nose
Or know how to for portraits pose!
She grew tired of her measured air,
Until she wished she had never
Set her goddamned footsteps
Into the portals of the palace that night
Or at least, never left her glass shoe
With such careless haste.
She was interrupted at every stance,
Was tutored for her every glance,
Even the Prince grew tired of her bohemian ways;
This wasn’t the Cinderella he had wed!
‘You pushed my spirit deep down my throat,’ she complained
To her Fairy Godmother, when she dropped by one day
‘I never knew this was the price to pay!’
The Fairy gave her a bewildered stare
‘My dear! But this is what they all lustily crave!’
‘You have Palaces and Coaches,
And Fineries as you demand
And a Husband who has no equal
Across Continents and Lands!’
‘But this is not my happily-ever-after,’
Wept Cinderella in despair
‘My life is a fabricated lie
I wish I had never worn those glass shoes that night!’
‘You stupid girl!’ the Fairy laughed
Like one mocking a child’s folly
‘But you are a woman, you need a man
And of what do you complain?
I have delved you from drudgery, misery and pain.’
‘You have bestowed a curse upon me!’
Cried Cinderella in vain
‘I am no royalty to blend in with them!’
‘You gave me an illusion,
Made me believe it was true.
But no, I can’t sustain this way
This, after the ‘ever after’.
(Whether or not a ‘happy’ one,
Is for you to decide.)
There was a commotion at midnight.
The Guards made haste
To the bed-chamber
Only to find, the window shattered
The Prince on his bed,
Asleep from the sleeping draught
Ministered, by his most-trusted.
There was no sign of the Princess, her wardrobe askew
And underneath the windowsill
Broken glasses et al,
Lay a gorgeous glass shoe.
19 January 2016