Among the people and garbage alike
I think to myself, I keep to myself.
I don't fit it just right.
I feel as if I am different
Not in the way most people think
I am not crazy nor am I unique.
I sit by myself, surrounded by boistrous men.
I think about how I used to feel
I could feel like a princess,
My hair could be matted, or it could be perfect
I could be wearing rags or ball gowns
It didn't change how I feel, what I see when I look outside the glass house.
A princess
Next a qeen
No one will forget
Its just a title
I went from being down on all fours scrubbing
To diamonds and rubies
I don't need this, I don't want it
Cinderelly, cinderelly
I ignore the calls, I remember the sneers
I want it back.
A contest entry
- picture contest: cinderella by Polaja.
700 points, ended July 22, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
constructive critizism welcome
Comments
-
I think you mean "queen" and not "qeen" - but other than that this was a good read
I like the twist of the ending - you have taken the prompt in a great direction thank you for entering!
Polly
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