rapunzel, rapunzel, turunkan rambutmu...

oh, god let me forget the things he said

let me not lie another night awake

repeating the promises he made,

freezing and burning for his faithless sake;

seeing his face, feeling his hand once more

loosen my braided hair until it fell

shining and free; remembering how he swore

a single strand might lift a man from hell...

i knew that other girls in april past,

had leaned, like me, from some old tower's room

and watched him clamber up, hand over fist...

i knew that i was not the first to twist

her heartstrings to a rope for him to climb.

i might have known i would not be the last.

(sara henderson hay, don't bet on the prince: contemporary fairy tales in north america and england)