World of Glass

Scrubbing the muck of another day, just trying to get by.

Can't stand those angry, heated glares of all surrounding eyes.

So she keeps cleaning up their mistakes, and not ask anything in return.

She doesn't know how that thing called 'love' works, but she's always wanted to learn-

No time for wishful thinking. Theres carpets to be beat. 

God forbid one speck of dirt touch those odorous feet.

'Cindergirl, clear the tables. Cindergirl, polish the silver.'

As though picking up a freaking broom would instantly kill her.

How they live in luxery, and force her to her knees.

Never asking how she's doing, never saying 'please'. 

Demand, demand- thats all they do! "Clean/dust/polish that!'

And she'll set off to do the chores, and dream of her World of Glass...


A place with no delusions, of false promises or pride.

A place with pumpkin carriages that everyone can ride.

A place were all are equal, and theres no demands or quarrels,

and were she can dance the night away, in her perfect little world.

She would be the fairest girl at the ball,

and the Prince would only dance with her- because he loved her most of all.

Theres no floors to scrub, no dusting. No polishing silver or brass!

Just the peace and her love, in her precious World of Glass...


Reality shatters her dream world, as the clock begins to chime.

It's a little after midnight- she's running out of time.

Still so much to do before the golden rays of dawn

shine through the clear windows, when dreaming time is gone.

Hearing the screech of her family, though not by blood nor birth

she knows exactly how much her life means, as she sweeps another pile of dirt.

She isn't offended, by their cruelty. Not offended at all. 

Because she is the princess- the most beautiful heart of all.

She holds no grudge against them, does not square her jaw.

She just smiles, and nods her head. She does not judge their flaws.

She does not look down on them- thats not her judgement to pass.

So she grabs her toothbrush to scrub the floors, and think of her Wolrld of Glass...


She's in a white gown, simple and rather plain.

She needs no sparkles,ruffles, or long lacy trains.

The only material elegance she wears, so simple yet so sweet

are those glorious glass slippers that cling lightly to her feet.

Her beauty is all natural, and so plentiful it glows.

Her beloved friends in Heaven, those angels surely know

She misses her lost mother, and that baby she never had the chance to hold dear.

But in this perfect World of Glass, they're both dancing- laughing for the world to hear.


When she coughs abruptly, and tastes the metallic tang of blood upon her lips,

her heartbeat stops and her everything spins, before she sinks into a dark bliss.

Her World of Glass, its melting. As though carved from solid ice.

Her dress, once so clean, looks like it had never been that nice.

Her mother and brother are gone, as is her beloved Prince.

She touches the ruby stains so fresh on her skin, she can't help but wince.

The pumpkin has rotted, the people are gone. She, again, is completely alone.

So she bends down to scrub up the puddles of that World of Glass that was once her own.


When she wakes, she vommits. Her dispair has come to life.

She's surrounded by those that despise her, and they're finally being nice.

'The chores can wait until your well- I can't believe how sick you've been'

As though she isn't coughing up life blood, like her broken heart can mend.

'So selfish to get ill, when we need you to fix our meals!'

Doctors doing all they can to make her body heal.

She'd been sick for quite a while, she didn't want them to worry.

They had their own lives to lead- why make them feel hurried?

She closes her eyes, smiles through her pain, and finally sheds the tears no one had seen

She whispers' Thank you for your kindness, and trying to love me.'


And when she opens her eyes, her Prince is smiling so wide.

Her World of Glass is whole again, and she's a blushing bride.

She'll miss that house she came from, she'll miss that mother and her girls.

They were not kind, but seeing they're last kindness were as precious as genuine pearls.

Theres  no ruby stains, no cruelty, no dust covered floors.

She's experiencing her own Utopia on a level she hadn't before.

This is her new reality, that she'll awake to every day.

She'll garden with her mother, and watch her brother play.

Theres no murky surfaces, no false images, no expectations to pass.

Just peace, her beloved, and her perfect, little World of Glass

John_Drydin   John_Drydin wrote
on 10/31/2011 3:03:46 PM
you dusted off an old relic, and polished it for these modern times, ver nice

roadtripper523   roadtripper523 wrote
on 9/10/2011 11:28:02 AM
original take on the story. at least i've never read any analysis of the story like that. good.

writing torn
"In times when it seems impossible to smile and maintain composure, live like your dying and go jump off a cliff."
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My interpretation of Cinderella: the ball is nothing but a fever fueled daydream she envelopes herself in as she slowly dies of TB.