Cinderella

Charlie Bowden — United Kingdom

Once upon a time in a near enough land,
the board of directors were pushing their brand
into the arm of a girl who has beauty and charm;
don’t worry, it’s all a part of their plan.

Shoved up from the ground she waits around
to be noticed, like a fake plant that makes funny sounds.
The men come up, she gives her perfect elevator pitch
and they sit deciding if she’s a good fit, if she’ll make them rich, at least for fifteen minutes.

So it’s decided, her very existence derided
as she rages her way from rags to riches
with nothing more to comment than what they let her say;
it’s a new dawn, a new life, a new ticking down day.

Tick. Tick. Tick. All the boxes filled,
the envelopes stuffed, the cheating concealed –
of course she doesn’t know, it has to look real
or else she’ll come home without famous godmothers or meals.

Still the spokes on the wheel are beginning to slow
as the board decide to abandon, make her music’s Jane Doe,
and as they shove her back into her return envelope
their ears ring as she sings the distinctive cry of a crow.

So now here she sits, making a living that barely fits
in with her life of mascara and popping zits.
She’s seen the new one on TV, knows she’s about to get minced;
she once had her pumpkin prince but she hasn’t seen him since.