Be Careful Who You Faux-Pas
Cinderella's knuckles were raw and bleeding
why, oh why, did her father marry that witch?
evil to the core. And her step-sisters – mean
and nasty, threw clothes on the floor in heaps
Cinderella picked them up and spit on them
little bits of drool speckling their garments
even had to clean their filthy bathrooms
used their toothbrushes, replaced in holder
what had she ever done to deserve this?
Well, she’d get even – she would get the prince!
Some weird fairy godmother came to visit
waved her wand, poof, and there was her dress
Cinderella carefully washed ashes from her spirit
slipped on diaphanous gown so fine and fancy
kissed new slippers good luck, slipped them on.
Her candle had waned and no flicker remained
to see that she had chosen one perfect slipper
and one ragged one that her evil sisters
had handed down to her, faces in sneers
she scampered to the ball with fast feet
it was a long way but, alas, her fairy godmother
had forgotten to arrange transportation
even an old pumpkin would have done
she lifted the hem of her dress and wiped
the tears from her eyes and worry from body.
she was flabbergasted when she saw the prince
across the room in his fine woven gold raiment
and oh, that body, she’d lie down with him for sure
the minute she got her chance, forget about marriage
the tingles of her want began low and coursed upward
she could hardly walk, her lust was boiling over
I want his royal tongue exploring my every secret
I’ll show those wicked step-sisters. I’m prettier than they
who do they think they are? Her anger bubbled out.
I’ll have to put my hostility on the back burner for now.
The charming Prince eyeballed her from across the room
protocol was to ask her to dance but he’d rather bed her
taking her in his arms, he whirled her around dance floor
heat and shape of her body enticed him, but King was looking
beady eyes following his every move, but he stealthily
managed to slip his hand under the hem of her gown
alas, she knew her fairy godmother had told her
to leave by midnight or she would be naked at the feast
and her underwear was different colors, didn’t match
it would be a catastrophe if she had to go to the hospital
she remembered that her dead mother used to tell her this!
She ran outside but, again, the godmother had slacked off
on the transportation, so she had to run all the way home
lost one of her shoes which the prince held high.
But drats, it was the ragged one –the one for everyday
it didn’t really fit her because it was a hand-me-down.
Later, the prince tried to fit the frayed slipper on her foot
“She’s cute,” he said, “but if it doesn’t fit, I must acquit”
She ran home in tears and sobbed all night in her misery
she had committed an extreme fashion faux-pas
her shoes didn’t match, the fashion police wouldn’t approve.
The next morning, she returned to normal, fixed oatmeal
for her step-sisters and stepmother, stirred in poison
lucky for her father, he thought oatmeal was for peasants
but as for the rest, they all died a perfect agony of revenge.
The moral of this story is be careful who you faux-pas!
Black Leather, Sweater
Polka Dots & Zebra Stripes
Her hair fell in curls all around her baby face, a bright lopsided smile lit up the room as she sat there in her hot pink dress that was covered in polka dots and zebra stripes and several other prints. The dress by its self could make you wish you were blind, but on her it seemed to fit so perfectly. So unique and chaotic in all its own beauty, as a reflection of her own personality. Yes on her it was every bit as vibrant as she.
Draping down from her shoulders,
a worn woolen shawl,
a mix-and-matched slouchy hat,
to set it all off.
Wind tangled hair,
dirty flat feet,
looks like a dark pair of toe shoes,
and a bun that's unneat.
Wishing you could be her yet?
That style, that physique.
Here's the deal maker,
she's skinnier than you or than me.
I do not think she notices though,
her quite baggy t-shirt and ragged jeans,
All she notices are that of her fashionista dreams.
But Damn It Feels Good To Be a Gangster
It was a warm summer day,
So Robert had to display
His truly unique sense of fashion.
He thought to himself,
As he scoured his shelf
"I want to look really dashing."
He saw a classy red shirt,
Thought it looked like dirt,
So he threw it on the floor.
A polka-dot polo,
Orange and purple, but yolo!
At least he wouldn't look like a bore!
He found some shorts that were green,
With yellow stripes, oh how mean!
Those were perfect for him!
He then grabbed a blue sweater,
"Oh great, that looks better!"
Robert must be a bit dim.
Some red crocs on the side,
Those shoes were trying to hide!
But Robert wore them anyway.
Then he went out,
And without a doubt
He appeared the most insane person that day.