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Sheldon Dsouza Feb 2016
I don't really believe in fairytales
They don't appeal to me.
So far fetched and finely etched,
Moments of utter distraught transitioning into those of glee.

We’ve watched serials and endless movies
Castles built on mountains so high.
Rapunzel caged in the topmost tower,
only to be found n rescued by a mere passerby?!

Cinderella on the other hand sweating it out from dusk to dawn counting upon a wish,
Then turning into a princess overnight sounds like a major glitch.
How many times have we seen a slave girl,
Working hard for a living but merely surviving,
Their lives changing at a wand's mere swish?

Sleeping Beauty on the other hand enjoying her glorious nap,
Only destined to be kissed by the man of her dreams and live happily ever after,
Reality in this one seems so far fetched,
Who lives a ridiculously lavish life like that in a luxuries lap.

The beauty and the beast is a huge tragedy in itself,
A beauty falling for beast is preposterous,
In reality no beast gets the beauty or the beauty the beast,
The pretty ones always go  first off the shelf.

But look closely at the fairytale and you will find there's more to it than meets the eye,
It tells us how courage rewards the brave few who had the heart to try.
Cinderella, Rapunzel, The Sleeping Beauty or the Beauty from the Beauty and the Beast,
Would have grown old living their old detested life,
If it weren't for the courage displayed by them or their brave, with their broken hearts they would be left to cry.
Lisa Lesetedi Feb 2016
The sun sets and darkness rises
Midnight is upon us
Shadows are no longer
They too have fled in fear of what is to come
Angel faced demons take their true form
Bed nor closet do they reside.
Monsters are among us
Monsters are us.

Only then, when the clock strikes
Are the true tales told.
Of how beauty killed the beast
And how beauty was the beast.

You see, Mankind is a myth, and so is humanity.
A myth told to us to make us believe that we are superior.
To make us forget,
That princes become frogs
Princesses become servants
Glass slippers shatter,
And they draw blood.
Nick Moser Jan 2016
Cinderella had her slipper, which was made of glass.
Something so small, yet, so delicate.

And I, much like Cinderella, have something made of glass.
Something so small, yet, oh so delicate.

It’s my heart.

And I think the clock just struck Midnight.
But only one of us can get our happily-ever-after.

And here’s a spoiler:

*It’s the broad with the wacky footwear.
Tick tock.
Miss Grim Jan 2016
He saw her through the tower window.
Silhouetted by candle light
Her beauty quite breath taking
On this cold November night
High above the tree tops
Imprisoned in the stone
She was far too pretty
To be trapped up there alone
So he fought his way to the top
This damsel deserved his best
He slaughtered the mighty dragon
Blood smeared across his chest
He made his way to the door
And found to his surprise
He could not break it down
Because she barricaded the inside
A scream from the room
You fool she hissed and said
I want to be here by myself
And now my pet is dead!
You ruined my castle
With your disgusting little plight
I am no damsel in distress
And you sir
Are no ******* knight!
Chirayu Writer Jan 2016
Filling up my day with a cup of tea
Makes me feel a great freshness morning
But while till at noon
A nap inside wake up a call ?
how wonder it's just a little 
afternoon snooze to the rising tide of sweetness
And put my dizzy thoughts around.

With a great gentle breeze of a lovely song 
In My Mind to float & dream of fairytales
Makes my day beautiful
With A little period of rest
when I wake at a time that suits
I'll be refreshed again

Like 
Sunshine 
Saying
Hello.......
                                           - Chirayu:-) ...
Ginelle Dec 2015
I feel connected with humpity-dumpity,
"why would you say such a thing?"

I giggle and banter,
but in reality, I am humpity-dumpity;

i am broken
and cannot be *fixed
weird association, but true
Robert Guerrero Dec 2015
Growing up you want to be
Sleeping Beauty's knight
Snow Whites true loves kiss
Cinderella's prince charming
You want to be the reason
She has a happily ever after
Its all ******* fantasies
They never had a lick of truth behind them
False hopes for the young minds
Leading them to believe
Everything goes your way eventually
My happy ever after
Is everybody else's
Happily never ever
I find my solitude in the drugs
**** it all
The real me gets to run free
Carefree, **** it all
All those promises of me quitting
My happiness is in the alcohol
The whiskey of a dragons fire
Soaring down my throat
I want to get so ****** up
I have to look down to find heaven
So this prince of stupidity
Lived happily never ever
Drowning in a pool of his *****
Choking himself in mountains of anger
Always feeling like the last thing
On everyone's mind
Just a nuisance
Saying he loves her
Saying hello to him
It was all pointless to begin
So they lived happily ever after
When he finally shot himself.
Possibly my last poem. Bye.
Nabs Dec 2015
By Nabs

    When I was little, I dreamed of being a princess.
Just like so many others do.

Imagining all the fun we will have.
Of Tea times and dressing in the finest dresses, wearing tiaras, and jewels,
      all day of the week.
              Princesses only seems to dress prettily in the stories.
                
We all dreamt of the same thing,
        Happy endings that always come at the end, cherished and pampered.

        Most of all loved by everyone.

  Princesses were always loved because she was inherently kind. Inherently docile.
Inherently pure and innocent.
              Inherently beautiful.

( Remember, Your purity is your worth)
                  
                            None of them was because
                                  people respected them.

All of them was because
Of their beauty.

      ( A princess have to pamper their self to utmost perfection, your beauty define your worth)

Princess is a symbol of perfection.
                                      Symbol of Divinity.

A guideline for Goodness and womanhood.
                Standards that shaped and pushed them self to little girls to be molded into a perfect piece of art that they them self would rarely get to enjoy.

( Art pieces, after all cannot admire them self)
    
                We have to strive for divinity and no less, because less means
        we will be condemned to be the wicked ones.

( No one bother to tell us that it is unreachable.)

        No one wanted to be the wicked ones because history burned who ever were branded as wicked.

      ( we stood on a world
piled with their ashes
          and everyone will claim it as a victory)

        One of the lesson, that these tale seems to croons that there is no in between for us.
        That there is only two archetypes for girls to grow up to.
The Princess or the Evil Witch.

Choose, the tale seems to shout.
            ( be obedient, be submissive).
                    (Good girls)
                ( Princess lives happily ever after).

(Fight, rebel, speak)
        (Bad girls)
  ( Evil witch will always be burned)
      
  ( This are the endings we have set for you, girls)

          Back then, after going home from school, I would read tales about princesses from all over the world.  
From Africa
                to Europe
                              to Asia.
      I devoured them like they were gospels, Laughing delightedly when the princes save the day then marries the princess, and frowning when the villain managed to defeat the heroes.
Happy endings,
      Happy endings.
( Death, is the only happy ending we will really get)

    I learned that to have a happy ending, a prince need to save me,
                from my self.

( Every princesses need a prince,
for a proper princess cannot save herself.
                
            You need to be saved to be complete)

      My parents called me their little darling princess, Their crown jewel,
              Their most cherished treasure.
They would hug me, clothed me, spun me into a figurine that they like.
Telling me that I am theirs.
Flesh and blood,
              Glittering orbs of red.
                                          Ownership.
Another princess tales, which plot echoes through out time. Beggars can't be choosers.
                              The same way a princess can't  choose anything for them self.

The tale said,
    A good daughter is an obedient daughter.

Shouting and screaming is prohibited.

( Lower your voice,
        princesses don't raise their voice.

They speak softly as soft as the flutter of butterfly wings

            or preferably they don't speak at all.)

      To be a princess, foremost is to sacrifice your whole being,
      To subdued your self
          To stop being human,
                and start being a treasure, a jewel.
Being fought over for the rights of possession.

( Isn't that the most highest pedestal you can put someone to?)

        As I grew up, these tales keep following me.

( Dont run, princesses never run.
                                    They submit.)
Of Snow white,
      Who was treated as if she was only an object of desire after the prince saw her dead in the glass coffins.
( You're mine, you got that?)

Of the sleeping beauty silence,
            that was taken as a consent to ravished her until she woke up because she gave birth to twins.
( Babe, you like this don't you? You have to, you're made for this)

Of the little mermaid plight,
      Discarding herself completely to be accepted on the lands, trading her voice and being in excruciating pain for her prince.
                        The one who will not love her.
( You look horrible in that, change into something prettier and for god sake, put some make up on)

Of Atalanta, who could not escape marriage
              and forced to marry a man she lost a race  unfairly to, because her father decrees so in the first place.
( My princess, you can't be with that person.  
                    They're not suited for you,
                              We want the best for you.
You don't know what's best for you. )
              
Of Bawang Putih and Bawang Merah,
                Echoing the morals, how your beauty define you, how you will be evil if you are less than beautiful.
( She's ugly, that's why she's jealous of her)

Of Putri Hijau ending,
            That to be free from being under the power of men, you have to jump into the ocean.
(You are mine, forever)

Of the archetypes for Good and Evil,
            ****, *****,
                      *****, Saint,
                              Witch, Princess.
( A good girl says yes, A bad girl say no)

How The Tales, often than not,
                          parallel each others, as if trying to drill them self into our subconsciousness with these toxic message.

( Princesses belongs to the people.
                      She never belongs to herself. )

These unspoken rules followed me into adulthood.

            Subconscious message of how to be  loved you need to be less.
You need to submit,
to be obedient,
docile,
pure,
innocent,
        most of all, you need to be beautiful.

      That beauty is how you're going to get your prince. Never it is because your wit, your courage, your wisdom,
what use do you have for them if you don't have a pretty face.

                No husband will find ever find you.

( Remember, wicked ones doesn't have a prince to set them straight.

                You don't want to be a wicked one,
                                                  Now do you?

So spread your legs, and lay down.
Take it. Atta girl!  )

These unreachable standards, bound us the same way they bound people feet to be dainty.
                They are rules for us to be less human, to be a thing.
      A princess, in this world is another term for a possession.

            (There is no such things as an independent princess, object need owners)

The stories always put them in gilded cages.

Once I asked why?
          Why do they need to be caged?
Why can't they be free?
        
The tales said that beautiful things needed somewhere to be kept.

The tales said many thing,
        seemingly innocent but  screaming about our worth, girls worth in the society.

(You need to be pretty for anyone to love you.)

(You're good if you are obedient.)

(You have no need for your voice,
                Silence is the only voice you need.)

(You're made to just lay down and take it.)

(You need a man to complete you
                                      and set you straight.)

(Never be yourself.)

I grew up wanting to be a princess,
Just like many others do.
        What we realized, to be a princess
                                  We have to be a slave.
                                      We have to be dead.
This was inspired by lots of books and articles I read.
Sorry for the cliche title, and thank you for reading the long poem.
Lydia Dec 2015
I gave up a little today
It shows when I smile:
Half broken, trying too hard
Trying to learn not to love
Holding onto the idea that someday I will get to love
Again
Giving up on my dreams of a perfect house,
A beautiful dress
I'm trying not to imagine spinning around a ballroom with someone, because
Everytime I wake up from those daydreams, my heart gets broken
I've given up on beauty:
I cut my hair and called it "powerful,"
But really,
I'm just trying to be a kid again
I've finally given in to fairytales and knights in shining armour,
But I've given up on finding my own
Please comment :)
Wilson Knapp Nov 2015
I believe in Fairy Tales
In magic swords and mystic sails
In pixie dust and prodigious whales
In dreamy girls and dragon scales
In binding spells and butter ales
In giant men and golden bales
In riding hood and racing snails
In blissful love and breadcrumb trails
In every sense the phrase entails
I believe in Fairy Tales
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