Rabunzel: The True Secret of Her Hair

I knew I would regret it when I sung “Let down your hair!”

As her tangled locks fall from the sky and hit me like hail,

I Look up and see as she drags it off the balcony

Her pale, porcelain face looked like it was painted on

Compared to the mop she held laced through her fingers.

As the split ends hit the dirt,

I take a moment to think over if I should do this.

She drags it everywhere! Will I fall down

Half way up when it gets too greasy?

Or will the knots work as steps to help me get there?

Maybe it would be kind of me

To climb up with shampoo splattered on

My palms, I think.

But, no! I can’t be rude!

So I begin to climb,

And climb,

And climb,

I pass through time,

And time,

And time,

As my hands start to look like the man’s

Who fixes my car.

And after my shoes are as blond haired as my dogs,

And I’ve seen more branches in this head than trees,

I find myself atop the tower to see my love.

And… hey, her hair might not be the cleanest,

But at least she isn’t half fish.