I wrote this in 2007 but thought it would be fun to share.

If he wasn’t and he wasn’t
Then, where is he?
I can’t sit in a tower
Until I hear, ‘let down your hair!”
I’ve left quite a few times.
Did I miss the sound of the hoofbeats go by?

And if he wasn’t and he wasn’t
Then were my eyes closed?
When did my foot not fit the slipper?
Or perhaps
the carriage turned back into a pumpkin too soon.
The bride back into the rag girl too soon
Or it left me at the wrong door.

If he wasn’t and he wasn’t
Then did I bite into the apple not poisoned?
I thought I fell into a death-sleep
Waiting for the life-kiss
But maybe I didn’t open the right door
For the right witch.

If he wasn’t and he wasn’t
Then was I just not that girl?
But I just didn’t want to use the loom
My finger is not pricked
Life has kept going.
Is he waiting for that chance to prove all he is
By busting through the vines
And finding my poor pale face ready for him?

If he wasn’t and he wasn’t,
I’m sorry, I just can’t marry a beast!