The Glass Slippers

Panicked little Princess
Paces up and down
Palace walls a whipping past
She wears a crooked crown

Clickety Clop Clickety Clop
Upon the floors that gleam
Her pretty, purple, painted toes
Crushed and cramped they scream

With heels too loose and toes too tight
Tears pricking at her eyes
On her feet her hopes and dreams
Just may not be her size

‘Try’ they say, ‘They suit you so.
They look a perfect fit.’
What they don’t see is deep inside
Her stomach’s darkened pit

Longingly she tilts her gaze
To where the others rest
She relents and pulls them down
And holds them to her breast

A pair that sparkles, shiny new
But shattered by her lies
Crystal shards beyond repair
No matter how she tries

A tarnished pair tugs at her heart
Her face no longer frowns
They show their age with scuffs and scars
And jewels that match her crown

It’s these she slips upon her feet
From time to time she does
Her heart at peace, her soul at rest
They fit her like a glove

In these she’s danced, in these she’s dreamed
By them she’s hypnotized
Every curve and every edge
She has them memorized

But alas their time is done
Boxed up with a kiss
Until again she slips them on
To laugh and reminisce

Reluctant sigh and head hung low
She tends to blistered heels
It seems the ones she thought she loved
Don’t give her all the feels

She puts them back inside the box
A small amount of dread
She’ll send them back to Amazon
And try Fluevog instead.

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