Growing Up

I don't feel like Cinderella.
I feel like a miniscule, melancholic mouse.

I'm nowhere near as fair as Snow White,
but every bit as awkward as every single dwarf.

I am nothing like Belle,
but more like a brutish, misunderstood Beast.

If only I had the beauty of that sleeping maiden, Aurora.

Do not call me Tiana, because I am just a lowly, slimy frog.

I am not fierce and brave like Mulan
Or seductive and clever like Jasmine.

My curiousity just might kill me - I won't be as lucky as Ariel.

I am easily corrupted like poor Meg, only I have no one to show me the light.

I am not adventurous and wise like Pocahontas.

And oh, what I wouldn't give to be as happily naive and lovable as dear Rapunzel.

No, I fear I am not graced with such luck and faith and care.
I know my "happily ever after" will never even become a "once upon a time".