I Blame Disney

My poem represents one woman's point of view on why she is a mistress. Her reasoning is as simple as a fairy tale.

So where the hell is he? This so-called prince

who’s supposed to make my wildest dreams

come true? If it hadn’t been for Snow White

or Ariel or Bell, this whole romance

business would be far from my mind. No ring

on my left finger, or big shiny crown.

 

Instead, I’m an ugly duckling. My crown,

nothing more than one-night-stands (none were prince

worthy.) Some had golden bands on their ring

fingers, too. Most women might say my dreams

are foolish, but I can’t help it; romance

is what I live for. The thought of a white

 

princess gown and a pair of matching white

gloves make me grin. Not to mention my crown.

What I’m really waiting on is romance.

For my own tall, dark, handsome, and rich prince

to say to me, “I’m the man of your dreams.”

So what if I date married men? Their rings

 

of faithfulness are lies. Bogus, fake, rings

they “forget” to mention. That prude Snow White

just had to kiss her man and all her dreams

came true. And the Evil Queen kept her crown,

sure she paid the price in the end. One prince,

that’s all I ask for. This type of romance

 

just for me. Disney made all these romance

movies so little girls would want big rings

of their own and save themselves for their prince.

Technically, I can’t wear a poufy white

dress. But I can still wear my diamond crown

and little girls will say, “All of her dreams

 

came true.” Think about it, my biggest dream

is what every woman wants, pure romance

and a dream house. And to top it off, crowns

and ball gowns. The big prize though, is that ring.

My castle will be grand, with marble white

stairs, and servants will listen to the prince’s

 

orders. Yes, my dreams are real, like the ring

I want most, along with romance, a white

horse, and crown. Even from a married prince.

Author's Note

What do you think of my sestina? (Wrote this for my creative writing class)