The Plight of the true Snow White
Her lips were red apples,
“Don’t trust lust!”
They called her a hag
Told me she had driven me mad!
“Kiss me” she said
And then I dropped dead
Because I realised my story was wrong,
Erased the ending they taught belonged
And then all I had to do was admit!
Write into the story and say:
actually everyone I am g-
“She’s sick, she’s just sick!”
“She needs a doctor, a cure!”
“She can’t be conscious, she must be in a dream!”
“Stop her or she won’t go to heaven!”
“How is this happening, she’s not had one man but seven!”
Indeed, no matter the 7 notches on my bed post, the 7 men in my life
Something, something just wasn’t right
But no matter my voice, I was written into the pages as asleep – early till late
Whilst the patriarchy around me decided my fate.
“All she needs is just one perfect heterosexual kiss,
A kiss, yes a kiss, from a royal dick!”
And so the prince came on his horse to elevate me from being this whore
And without knowing his name or his persona I was to be apparently cured,
Destined to love what I should: holy matrimony and motherhood
But on seeing me the prince grimaced and guffawed
It is said he ran off with a dwarf!
No one returned to the castle!
No one took the reign!
It seems we all went wild
Yet became completely sane.
No one restricted, no consensus to stoop or to bend!
That was my real story, that was ‘The End’.