A Happily Ever After for Foot Fetishes and Fools 

Once upon a time, 

when I was young and beautiful…

​​I glittered. I gleamed. A work of true art,
handcrafted and made, fit for royalty. 

Of course. 

There I was, standing handsome and tall,

a great glass slipper that sparkled and blinded, 

made for no less than the daintiest of them all. 

You know the story.
I certainly played my crucial part
in a tale of unforgettable, cupidly success.
Though I was Cupid for someone stupid.

If you will—down I fell
off five flights of stairs, betrayed.
In this glass-heeled tale of rise 

and a never recovered fall.

Oh this was the greatest tragedy of them all.

That dark windy night, 

I was left behind in royal pursuit,
while that golden-haired girl fled back to soot.
Was it the dance, or a stumble too grand?

Either way, I’d been cast aside. 

I was meant for elegance, a grace on display
to be awed and wooed—but here I stayed,
Abandoned, discarded, tossed away!
An expired treasure lost until

the prince picked me up, held me in view—
Is this how he planned to find who is you?
One size fits all? That’s a joke, right?
For a thousand feet, all yucky and gross.

Why not just ask for her name, you fool?

But no, I’m stuck with your shoe-fitting rule.
You, a prince who is heir to the throne,
even your brightest scholars would blush with shame.

Now I’m paraded from village to village,
shoved on feet with a royally ugly frown.
Too tight, too loose, or won’t slip in.
This truly is a foot-fetish disguised by romance.

In the end, when you find the “perfect match,”
I’ll be cast aside again, simply detached.
You’ll get your palace, 

your golden shoes that shine so true—

And what will become of this simple glassed shoe?

Once honored and loved, now left to dust,
while you live out your fairy tale dream.
Oh, the irony!

How dense and cruel, just a stepping stone 

for some lovestruck, empty-headed fool!

So to that little girl standing eagerly behind the screen,

your eyes so eager and wide, 

Is this a happily ever after? 

An idiot prince as the pinnacle of husbands and men? 

Here’s my message from this grimy old closet: 

happiness here is nothing more than a 

Shallow 

Empty 

Rhyme. 

Cheers for a happily ever after to a tale as old as time!