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Who told you to wait for a prince anyway?
He'd only cut off your glorious hair,
Plait it into the rope that binds you.
How much better to free its golden fire,
Ignite the tower,
escape on wings that burst
from your own strong arms.
Rapunzel, forget the prince!
Look into the eyes of the witch
and see, reflected in
their dark fire,
the other half of yourself.
Take her hand, and fly!
The subject of this poem is:
A. Fairytale
B. Myth
C. Autobiography
D. Biography
A. Fairytale