Mirror mirror, who is the fairest of them all?
The wicked witch dares to call.
Witch or stepmother, you ask?
Aren’t they interchangeable with one another in the looking glass?
It’s a fairy tale after all and the girls don’t matter,
Either silly, sweet and dull or mad as a hatter.
Imagination and reality blurs,
When the women all say, “Yes sir.”
We read these but don’t take time to see,
Exactly what all of these tales could mean.
Fairy tales with brave princes and damsels in distress,
Unable to find a way out of their own mess.
Where are the tales in which girls hold their own,
Where they stand and fight instead of whine and moan.
They’re all locked away so the girls stay hidden,
Up in their towers to sew and wait as bidden.
But girls can slay their own dragons, don’t forget,
Nowadays if you talk smack, expect to get hit.
We find ways out of towers without growing out our hair,
Although I still like mine, so don’t despair.
Girls can handle their own whenever they chose,
Cause nowadays we girls, we don’t like to lose.