Cinderella.

The ball was fair, the prince prepared, a sight for eyes of grief: in flight compared, in heights declared, the sisters held receipt. The ugly way, the world behaves, when jealousies inflamed, two sisters held comparisons, the labored one remained. The house complete, the work repeats, such freedoms won’t exist, without so much as candidates for things that others missed. A pumpkin rode, the carriage towed, the mice had surely steered, the time that past, the thoughts had asked, her invitation cleared. By the time the hour chimed and midnight had been clocked. The carriage would return into a pumpkin where it stopped. The slippers glass, the wind had passed, the dance had left to trade, the foot that was inside of it, had left it to be claimed. The ugly souls, had been indulged, no feet they owned displayed: the fit upon, the ease thereon, for someone it was made. Cinderella was then found, that such a foot exists: with comfort and with character, the prince could see it “fits”.