Wishing on a glass slipper

Dust, Broom, Mop

I fold , I clean,

I must not stop,

keeping things tight,

neatly and tucked

I can't help but 

feel stuck

Stuck in my own

skin, stuck in 

these old clothes, 

oh how I wish

I could do more than just fold

yet there is Dust , Broom , a mop

I must clean at once

until my handsome hunk of a prince

take me away from this dark

, take me away to his palace

and make me feel like his majesty

but the brutes are back

I can hear them near,

at once I hear

I huddle in the corner in fear

there is dust , a broom, a mop

it must all be spotless, it must!

I teter what do I have to lose

except this beautiful glass shoe,

I mean the only piece of beauty I hold

to reach my dreams of gold,

to seek the prince of the hour

I must run before I can clower

cover in fear , oh sweet prince 

I am near

yet I see 

Dust

A broom

A mop.