Rapunzel, Rapunzel , let down your hair
I read the old rhyme
And met her in person.
She let down her hair
and enticed me with her smile.
She was kind to me
or so I thought
as I climbed up her locks.
Little did I know
I was talking to the witch herself
who was sharpening her knife
to stab me in the back
as she showered me with sugar-sweet words.
Naive me listened and soaked it in
and was promptly thrown out of the window
with the knife in my back
when I had served my purpose.
Lying in the brambles
I saw the next prince coming.
Hearing the same words
I wondered
Is there justice after all?
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