Once upon a time,
A princess sat inside a tomb
-a crystal coffin set by dwarves
beneath the light of crescent moon-
They watched her blink her glassy eyes
And turn her perfect head
-the dwarves, they knew that fair Snow White,
She wasn’t really dead-
Yet in her coffin she remained,
Not doing much at all,
She wasn’t fazed by lessons, teas,
Nor the upcoming ball.
She’d used to charm her dwarven friends
With cheer and wit and light,
But then a poisoned apple broke
The spirit of Snow White.
The poison stripped away her will
To smile and carry on,
One day the dwarves, they realized
That she’d might as well be gone.
So they placed her in a coffin,
Like a dead girl set for Hell,
And prayed that some act of true love
Would come to break the spell.
Snow White gazed out at the world
And felt the urge to cry,
She saw that if she stayed too long,
Time would pass her by.
The dwarves would learn to carry on,
New stories would unfold,
Snow longed to live a life with them
Before they all grew old.
It wasn’t easy as it seemed
To sing as she’d once sung,
How could she, when the poisoned fruit
Still rotted on her tongue?
But she couldn’t wait for “true love’s kiss”
To pull her from her shelf,
She realized, if she wanted out,
She’d have to save herself.
So Snow White worked up all her strength,
Became the hero she had to be,
She spit that apple out and then
She clawed her own way free.
It wasn’t ever quite the same,
Saving yourself each day is tough,
But Snow White lived, and she was loved,
And all that was enough.