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You know, fairy tales rarely had a happy ending.
They were bloody and grim, tragedies of Greek proportions.
That's forgotten, these days, with Disney-fluff and kid books,
With bedtime stories of kings and princesses and magical godmothers
Who always grant the wish.
Snow White's mother was the one who wanted her heart,
And the poor dear died three times.
Sleeping Beauty was raped as she slept,
And woke to her children feeding at her breast.
Cinderella's stepsisters sawed at their feet to fit in the slipper,
And have you ever heard of what happened after 'happily ever after'?
Rapunzel's boy lost his eyes,
And Snow White's stepmother(if you want to update the tale)
Danced herself to death at the sweet princess's wedding on burning shoes.
Hansel and Gretel were cooked to be eaten
And children don't get happy endings.
The little mermaid died as the prince kissed another,
The sweet fish-girl became foam or cloud-dust, something,
And all her sisters mourned, wept, screamed.
There are so few happy endings, so why all the lies?
Why tell children that Goldilocks didn't get eaten
Or not mention that Prince Charming is lying dead on the floor?
Oh, that's right—
They're children's tales now, and children are innocent weaklings
Who can't know the truth because of how painful it is.
There is no happily ever after, no riding into the sunset on a noble steed—
The sun would scorch everyone, anyway.