Cinderella's Stepsister

You never saw my tears.

You never knew my fears,

As I gazed at the moon

My only friend, and even though

Some nights, left me alone.

You never thought how I felt,

A young flower doomed to wilt,

While all flowers swayed along,

With Cinderella’s cosmic song.

The golden lochs of hair,

The angel’s face so fair,

The ocean-deep, sky-blue eyes,

The wondrous warmth of sunrise,

How can all this compare

To the average brown hair?

To the average beauty of mine?

To me…

Less charming,

Less amusing.

Cinderella had no mother, no father.

But I was no better, no further.

I had a mother whose only hope in life,

Was making me the prince’s wife.

‘I love you’ was never to be heard

A motherly moment rarely occurred.

I had to win the fight

Though knowing it was not right;

The fight for a man

I hated him not,

Yet loved him not.

This battle was all about

Not being the odd one out,

About satisfying everyone,

Silencing everyone,

Silencing myself,

My tears,

My fears.

But that was not my fate.

And I have to sit and wait

For the story to be retold

Without me viewed as evil and cold.

Kindness not magnified,

Angels not glorified,

Beauty not appreciated,

They all vanish away..

Kindness into evil,

Angel into devil,

Beauty into… me.

Cinderella is immortal.

Even her shoe is immortal.

And I…

Am either remembered, as the villain,

Or forgotten

My name,

My mere existence

Is forgotten.

I am hurt… and forgotten

Whenever the story is told again.

Hurt and forgotten

Again and again

And again.