Little white hair
You’re stuck to my scalp
And I’m ok with that
As long as no one can tell….
Snuggle up quiet
Under the black tresses
Coz quite frankly
You don’t match, like, ANY of my dresses….
You’re crazy and squirmy
And a sneaky little bugger
You tend to pop out and say ‘Hi!’
Just when I’m hoping you’d stay under….
I mean ‘WHY are you even here?’
I’m practically just sixteen
It’s not like I’m that age
When I shouldn’t even preen…
Damn! whenever I see you
I start checking for a wrinkle
Or wonder if my knees will pop
When I sit down for a tinkle…
I just decide to snip you off
And save meself the heartache
So it will be all painless
IF YOU COULD JUST SIT STILL FOR GOD’S SAKE!…
You play catch-me-if-you-can
With me and my scissor
I almost take out an eye
Thanks to you and that idiotic mirror…
And finally you’re trapped
You cursed spawn of the devil
I snip you right off
And cackle while I revel…
Only until I see the fight you put up
When you I was trying to catch
About 50 lovely black hair
Were sacrificed in the match… *sob*
Really beautiful poem. Very much like my situation these days.
LikeLike
Thank you Abhishek! Please fell free to explore the rest of the blog. Thanks again 🙂
LikeLike
Hey akshu, it is considered lucky….don’t snip it off
LikeLike
Too late babe! It’s gone! Now what do I do??? *panic*
LikeLike
Great one ! loving it 🙂
LikeLike