An Ode to Unicorns

An Ode to Unicorns
by Yelle dela Cruz

Why do they have to read me fairytales at bedtime?
Don’t they know that while they do,
I was living through their stories
Though none of them were true.
They told me I’m the princess
Of a prince who does a lot but says a few,
But now I am the damsel in distress
Who lives her life in rue.
Who dreamt of a moat-surrounded castle,
And a garden with a bower,
And her dresses made in pastel
But found herself atop a dingy tower.
She waited all her life
For her knight in shining armor,
Until she learned he has a wife
Whom he fought with much clamor.

Why do they have to read me bedtime stories?
That always start with “once upon a time”
And end with a “happily ever after”?
But in truth a girl should earn her dime
To buy herself an ample meal for supper.
Her prince was without a white stallion,
He drinks and gambles throughout the night
With men he calls his battalion.
Why do they have to tell me stories that end in a happy tune?
Don’t they know I’d be dreaming of my own happy ending
And end up like a loon?
They played with my innocence, I was a fool to believe,
That life was like a fairytale
That very soon I, myself, would relive.

Why do they have to read me fairytales at bedtime?
Don’t they know that soon I would see,
That indeed the prince was charming
But not man enough for me?
He wouldn’t bring me flowers nor take me out to sea.
He couldn’t save me with his sword,
Too afraid to spare his life for me.
Yes, indeed, the prince was charming,
But he won’t go saving me.
Although his stallion’s glaring white,
His heart is black, I see.

Why do they have to read me bedtime stories?
I was young and so naïve
To think I, myself, would live the dream
With a prince my Lord would give.
They never told me that I should slay my own dragons
Nor beware of poisoned apples.
What they told me was that when she died, he kissed her,
She woke up and they lived happily ever after.
Why do they have to read me fairytales at bedtime?
When they know all too well that a girl’s heart breaks easy?
That I would get myself wounded
When I see my prince and the witch share a kiss
That would leave my stomach queasy.

Now, no one reads me fairytales,
But still I refuse to see
That I am living not a fairytale
But a tale that was made for me.
I hear no trotting of a unicorn,
Nor the beating of Pegasus’ wings.
I see no castle in the distance
With heavy wooden doors at the entrance.
I am riding not a pumpkin coach,
Off to some faraway land only to encroach.
There were no dwarves to wipe my tears as they fall
When I learned I wasn’t invited to the royal ball.
Maybe I should wake from my slumber,
Dreaming of a fairytale was sure a bummer.
As I prepared to leave my prince,
I ran down the steps with but a wince.
Not only did I hear my heart whimper,
But I also left at the foot of the stairs,
My beautiful glass slipper.