If Rapunzel was a Taylor Swift Song About Me...

Poor Rapunzel, up in her tower,

Scrolling through life, wasting the hours.

Hair growing longer, social life stuck,

Lost in a world that don’t give a... hoot.

Chronically late, to find another new job,

Paychecks as empty, as Sam, Dick, and Bob.

Clock in remotely, work, rinse, repeat,

Coworkers - strangers, small talk not cheap.

A life full of love? Yeah, that was back then,

Before the world came to its 2020 end.

Memorable trips are pictures on the door,

Reminders of a life she can’t have anymore.

***

Forty-two years old, time’s turning sour.

Rapunzel hangs on, growing angry in her tower.

Trendy little spot no longer so bright,

Shrouded in the dark of D.C. political strife.

Nothing to chase, she's now just a ghost,

Zoom calls and comradery – all things, remote.

She dreams of old times - of laughter and grace,

A hand to hold, a real face to face.

***

Living alone in a digital haze,

Bots calling bots, it’s all a maze.

The world’s gone non-social, everything’s online,

People in pixels, no faces to find.

No hugs, no handshakes, just virtual lies,

She waits for a prince, but he’s a figment of Ai.

Is anyone real? Or is it all just fake dolls? Maybe he’s out there, maybe he’s lost,

In this virtual chaos, to what cost?

***

Zucchini cat curls up as Rapunzel scrolls through the feeds,

Both after love, for a sign, for their needs.

But the days go by, and the silence grows louder,

No prince, no rescue, no crowd to stir.

Slim's not the only one acting shady,

No wonder she's a childless cat lady.

***

A girl in her tower, in a world full of screens,

Waiting for connection, whatever that means.

Rapunzel can’t shake the feeling, deep in her chest,

There’s something she's missing, something yet to express.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,

If not for a prince, write a book, so your stories are shared!

The world in chaos, but she’s got a plan,

She'll write her way out, to a better land.

An uplifting memoir of love, laughter-through pain,

Maybe that’s the way to break free again.

Rapunzel writes her story, every tear, every gasp,

Determined to rebuild what she lost in the past.

And maybe, just maybe, someone will see,

Rapunzel’s tower? Thats what made the girl, you see.

***

The work bots don't notice she's late every day,

She’s lost in her thoughts…on a mission with no pay.

No human connection, just Wi-Fi and memes,

Her writing’s her outlet, her escape from earth’s steam.

She finds purpose and peace connecting with butterflies,

Her words are a window, a glimpse of the skies.

She posts about love, about loss, about dreams,

About the past and the life that once was a team.

Each post a window, a glimpse of soul,

How the world kept moving while grief took its toll.

Rapunzel’s done waiting for someone to climb,

It’s time to break out, write her own rhyme.

So here’s to the memoir, set forth to begin—

She’ll climb outta that tower, from her own strength within.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, hurry - cut your hair!

Not for a prince, but Social Media Shares!

Go change the game with those words so true,

A world where love and real-life again, breakthrough.

The one shameful secret that kept her from town,

Her hair grew too long, along with her frown.

She’d let it grow wild, a tangled mess,

Not because she wanted to, but because of the stress.

The world got quieter, and so did she,

Her hair grew, and she let it just be.

***

Then one day, a prince in a podcast booth,

Finds her writing, uncovers the truth.

Rapunzel wakes up to a comment, a sign,

A name she didn’t recognize, outside of the grind.

"Hey, I’ve been reading your blog for a while,

You write with such depth, your words make me smile."

Rapunzel says “I feel like we’re connected, somehow,

Like I’ve known you forever, though I don’t know how.”

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, don't worry about your hair,

It’s time for a book tour, no more despair!

She’s living her dream, having found her voice,

The tower’s long gone, and her schedule is her choice!

She wasn’t the girl with hair down to the floor,

But the woman who had hidden behind a screen’s door.

He saw her, and for the first time, he knew,

That Rapunzel was more than her hair—or her view.

A prince? Who knows? But there’s something more—

A connection that’s real, something to adore.

***

It’s not about castles or crowns or a chase,

It’s about the words, the thoughts they embrace.

They talk about life, about the highs and the lows,

And little by little, the bond starts to grow.

***

No long hair to climb, no tower so high,

Just a blog and some words, reaching the sky.

And maybe this story’s not the one you’d expect,

But thats how love finds you, when you least expect.

So here’s to the blog, the posts, the chance,

To the prince who didn’t need a grand entrance.

Just two souls connecting in a world gone astray,

Rapunzel’s not waiting, she’s living today.

***

Rapunzel, I see who you are,

A woman trapped in a tower, not behind a bar.

A digital life, phone screen for a door,

But there’s more to you—there’s something to adore.

***

“Wow,” he said, “You’re even more than your posts,

You’re real, you’re here, you’re not just a ghost.”

And Rapunzel smiled, her heart skipped a beat,

Maybe love wasn’t about perfection—just being complete.

So the prince found her, not through long hair,

But through her words, her story laid bare.

***

Now she’s famous, with a book in her hand,

From her tower of thoughts to a life on demand.

The prince? Ya, he's cool, but this is her time,

This story is Rapunzel’s and she’s ready to shine.