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Sunday, 18 April 2010

The Thing About My Hair

Like Samson, in biblical..
It is the one thing that leaves me,..
Feeling naked without...

A shell to a crab...
You always add to my height..
In the mirror I am Everest..
Trimmed like hedges, you epitomise me..

However you enslave me..
Dependent on the comb..
My timing always made late..
Spending forever searching for..
The last piece of jig saw to complete me...

In-between times of frantic..
Searching and finding..
I decide to cut you off..
"Enough already
You have made me late again"

Just then I find you hidden..
Under my old dirty clothes..
The roughness raked out to perfection..
In the mirror, I am Everest again..

But you enslave me..
Making me late again..

My hair, my hate, my love 

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