PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

The Man Behind The Name


Who am I you might ask, I am among one of the seven loyal footman to the fairest of them all, Snow White.

My name is Aiden but my friends call me grumpy and this, well this is my story.

It all began on a day unlike any other, the sun was hidden within the dark clouds and the sky roared with thunder, lightning danced upon the ground it was a chaotic and beautiful mess.  

as I stood admiring the rain smacking down on the window of our quaint cabin, I saw her.

She was a breath of fresh air, a wonderful mess with mud splattered along the hem of her dress.

Her flawless ivory skin stood out against the night making her impossible to miss, it was in fact Snow White.

I ran out of the cabin making my way to her as I drew near I could see the fear in her eyes, but she looked at me with such hope like whatever she had been running from didn't matter anymore. She began to run towards me but before she could make it she fell to the ground and was unresponsive not even a twitch of life in her, Scooping her up I ran her back to the cabin and gently laid her on the table. It was there I saw her clearly for the first time,

her hair wet from the rain clung to her porcelain skin. I couldn't help myself  every nerve in my body was on edge, I brushed away her hair and leaned in feeling her soft lips beneath my own it was electrifying as though a flame burst inside me pulling back in shock.

it was then "prince charming" pushed through the cabin door and made his way to Snow. Everyone gawked in awe as he leaned down to kiss her slightly parted lips, but it was then I saw it right before he reached her lips her eyes gave way to the slightest of movement.

Just like that she woke and I watched in amazement as they gazed into eachother's eyes and I knew in that moment it didn't matter what I did or said no one

would believe me. I never told anyone, but after I was never quite the same, years passed but all I felt was emptiness. That's how I got it you know, the nickname grumpy.  

 
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Williamson_11

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.