People Problems

Society's Cinderella.

Here I am,
natural as can be.
A wonder- for those
I've yet to meet.

Sitting patiently,
leaving my heart,
at peoples feet.
Don't they see?

I'll alter myself,
if need be, all I see-
is the mirror, glaring back.
Am I blind?

Then there's the days,
I have my back straight.
A smile plastered on my face,
confidence evident at this rate.

Nights are growing icy,
leaves are turning crimson,
Falling to the ground.
Who will save me now?

Time to be a girl,
I'll embrace my feminine.
Cake that makeup on,
and flip those curls.

I hate the way,
It stains my face-
in such a superficial way.
I'd rather settle for less, than be my apparent 'best.'

Next I must put on a dress,
such a thing isn't done with ease.
Society demands I diet- to achieve a teensy waist.
Not to mention, let my muscles go to waste.

I'm a muscular, and curvaceous woman.
I am not a mere thin bone to be cracked in half.
I am a woman who thinks deep,
in search of those whom weep.

I'll feign interest in beauty,
for at least one night.
Unaware that I could be quite the sight.
Now I tire of the fight.

Let me sway my hips,
raise my chin and dip.
Careless and free.
Bending with the beat.

All I care to see,
is him dancing next to me.
He doesn't mind my wild eyes.
Or my untamed mane of curls.

The night is ending,
at last I'm done pretending-
that I am Cinderella.
At last the clock strikes twelve.

I can slip out of this dress,
and wipe my makeup clean.
Rip those pins from my hair,
allowing it to breathe.

I am not a doll,
I am not an expectation,
I am no model,
and certainly no princess.

Don't say I look like one,
You have no clue-
who I am, or how I can be.
I'm a fallen angel, trapped in society.