Silky sweet
and
enchanting,
we find ourselves addicted
to the smooth, sugary substance,
craving the promises
of a happily ever after.

The cool, calculated story
pledges roses and sunshine,
singing birds and eternal bliss.

And we purchase it,
eat it,
build our houses on it.

Remember
for every Cinders
there were hundreds of dreamers.

I was one.

 

 

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NaPoWriMo — Day Twenty-One:   Write a poem in the voice of minor character from a fairy tale or myth. Instead of writing from the point of view of Cinderella, write from the point of view of the mouse who got turned into a coachman. Instead of writing from the point of view of Orpheus or Eurydice, write from the point of view of one of the shades in Hades who watched Eurydice leave and then come back. 

My heart is heavy today and I wasn’t going to write anything.

Life is fragile.
We need to build our lives on a solid foundation lest the storms that come (and they will come with fierce aggression) destroy us.

Fairytales (the Disney kind that we love so — and *blush* I own most of them on DVD) are like sugar — sweet and addictive, but without substance.

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