The Queen’s Apple

If you think you know this one
Well, you just wait a minute
‘Cause stories can go many ways
Depending how you spin it

You’ve heard about a gal named Snow
And her seven little friends
But I bet you never heard the way
The story really ends

Snow was sure most beautiful
But she was also bright
She knew the forest inside out
And could put up quite a fight

Somewhere deep inside the woods
There lived a wicked queen
Who envied Snow in every way
Which made her act quite mean

And then one day that jealous queen
Pretended she was poor
She cried and said she needed help
Something Snow might fall for

But Snow was smarter than the queen
And saw through the charade
She knew that it was all a scheme
When she came by the old maid

But Snow felt sorry for the queen
And so she took the fruit
But as soon as she was out of sight
She kicked it with her boot

Through the trees that apple rolled
It’s spell still going strong
It came to rest next to a creek
Just when the queen came along

The queen, exhausted from her scheming
Dipped down to take a drink
And there the apple caught her eye
And she couldn’t help but think

“Why, what a lovely piece of fruit,
Such shiny, crimson skin.”
And before she gave another thought,
The queen just dove right in

It may have been her second thought
(Though clearly not her first)
That this, her lovely evening snack
The queen herself had cursed.

The wicked queen had always known
She’d pay for her life of sin
How fitting then that her demise
Was a dose of her own medicine.

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