Slam Poetry, Vol. II

Straight to the head, with a shot of power,

it can get lonely in an ivory tower.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

is often met with an icy glare.

Always yelled from a prince in shining armor,

that hasn't dulled because he hasn't gone to battle,

he hasn't faced struggle, or even unease,

or the possibility that strange men calling your name,

is met with anything except fear.

Don't ask me to smile, it's not meant for you,

I'd bother explaining, if you had a clue.

My jeans are too tight, my skirt is too short,

my jacket too big, my scarf, well, just too much.

I'm asking for it, I really do swear,

So long, farewell, oh do please take care!