Snow white was different

 Yes, her hair was black, her skin white and her lips red

Yet the hair was colored, the face pale since tired and wine stained lips

She wasn’t the beautiful princess
She wasn’t kind and every once darling
She wasn’t send away
She left the castle in free will

It weren’t seven nice busy little guys
It was people giving her what she asked for: pain, indignity and tears

Poison
It wasn’t  the stepmothers comb
It was  needles
Constrict
It wasn’t the stepmothers belt
It was self-imposed hunger
Deadly bite
It wasn’t an apple
It was pills

When her chest stopped moving
Nobody noticed
Later the people found her and were a shamed that they couldn’t help different when she came.

They made a glass coffin and placed her like a monument.
To be public and as a sign.

It wasn’t a prince who came, it was an other princess.
And she crawled in the crystal coffin.
The raising sun infuses their delicate translucent bodies.
Desire for a chance and Tears of the happend
A dire sad blending

She did not became alive again, when they made love in a coffin of glass.
Show white was a dead bride.