The Rouge Rapunzel
Is long hair a sign of poise or negligence?
I suppose it's the latter, since I have hardly a pence.
Thick and tangled like a great ball of cotton.
Just like my father, whom I've never forgotten.
To say just, actually, would be unjust.
His hair was far more fair, if my memory I may trust.
Soft and delicate, brushed every night,
Right before a kiss and the destruction of light.
But we were a sin and I was taken by sisters
Who beat me raw, planting bruises upon blisters
And so I fled
the cold, hard streets became a bed.
Who was the villain? Both wanted only the best.
I am the thief, driven by unrest.
After years I am caught and must brood for life
Who would have known inside I'd find my wife.
We escaped again, hiding in dresses
Finally coming to use? Our long white tresses.