Let down your hair
That I may climb thy golden stair!
This was the song,
the Witch played along.
But it ain’t all a Fairytale,
there lies a wicked truth in there
of pretty girls locked up in Jail.
She was a beautiful Maiden
with a golden heart
Born to an over protective father,
who caged her like a piece of Art.
Her Mum was a soul divine
But had to keep her Angel confined
for her horoscope was too alarming
And hence Rapunzel’s Witch
was none other but her Mother darling.
A Damsel she was feeble,
but wove stories stark.
Longing for a Prince
to hear her Poems sing
And free her from the prison dark.
And soon enchanted by her ethereal words,
came her Messiah led by her tweety birds.
She’d meet him slyly
when her father was away
Her life seemed a colourful Monet
from shades sombre and grey.
But we all know, men can’t resist their urge.
And she was craving like a desert
for the Rains to splurge.
Soon the Witch noticed her bulging pear
And in anger chopped off her golden hair.
That was the end of our Rapunzel’s story
Though we love to believe it weren’t that gory.
Let me leave you with a little something to ponder,
is it safer for girls to be locked up I wonder,
for there seem to be Monsters lurking in the dark yonder!