29 August 2012
My Cinderella story, Is a lot worse then you've heard, My wicked step-mother and sisters are a giant pack of turds.
In the Cinderella story you know too well, They just make me clean all day, In the uncut version I can never get away.
I sleep down in the basement, One slice of bread each day, I have to beg for water, as my sisters sit and play.
My father died unnaturally, They put poison in his blood. Upstairs I clean the marble floors, When I sleep in the mud.
The wicked witch that's my mother, Took all of daddy's cash, She buys whatever she likes for herself, As for men, she has a "secret stash."
I haven't even left the house ever since my daddy died, Not even to go and fetch the mail, Believe me, I have tried.
And that whole story about going to the ball, A fairy god mother just for me, They just added that to the story, I know I'll never be freed.
I never met my prince charming, Glass slippers? Do me a favour. I know that I will die here, Forever bound without a saviour.
Anyway, I must get back, There's plenty more to do, For my wicked "family", So, as they say, Bibidibobidiboo...
by vera©
The Untold Cinderella • Opuss № I