I sit up at my window,
hair crocheted into a braid
watching as you go,
though not sure if you will notice.
I let my hair down daily,
hope you see its growing length
Wish you'd see me now
instead of walking by.
It tumbles and it falls,
down the spire I call home.
I'd let you come on up,
all you have to say is please.
But you walk on by,
perhaps to save Cinderella
She always was so popular.
And here I sit, my hair so long
it drains my life away.
I will let it fall one last time,
before I hit the ground below.
Farewell my Prince.
Farewell.