An Apple for Snow

Seven hands, seven mouths,

Seven people to feed.

Cleaning this and cleaning that,

A vacation badly in need.

Snow White this and Snow White that,

Never even a break!

Make my bed, clean the sheets,

It’s almost too much to take.

It’s so much to do, for a girl so young,

For a girl of fourteen years:

To slave away for seven men

And pour out all sweat and tears.

So what would a little bite do?

Of an apple so red with youth,

But containing such tint of certain death:

No one shall know the truth.

No, just a bite,

A small one, too. It will be never known.

An “evil witch,” well, what a trick,

The cause there was my own.

No more men, or food,

Or muddy feet to clean.

Just a bite, a small one, too,

And bring an end to my routine.