The third fairy sister has made magic with her wand.
A very apt poem for the season when women strive to make new hairdos and outdo each other.
The things women do …… to me
I can be your crown, if you’ll just let me
My color – red, brown, black or grey
My feel – straight, curly, kinky,
Are things I can’t dictate
I’m fine when you just let me be
A simple adornment is all I need
But ouch! You just wear me out!
Well, life has its twists and turns
And it’s inevitable that I weave my way round it
Sometimes you stretch me beyond imagination
And wonder why my form is brittle
What scares me the most though
Is when you tell me to relax and I fall for it
You promise to make me Dark and Lovely,
Or Soft and Beautiful, you’ll use something Organic surely
For that’s the way these days
And I recline in anticipation – this is no lye
Ah! The horror of it all thins me out
Sucks the hell outa me!
How can you put me in this condition?
Setting me up with the rollers and tongs
A preamble to hell’s fury
Your language is strange these days too
You speak of Mousse, Placenta, Pink Oil,
Perm Repair, Setting Lotion and Lotta Body
There’s all sorts of Expressions, names I can’t fathom.
Who’s Amigo? Who’s Lolita?
They must be Exciting people? I’d love to meet them
Now, must you always talk of Ghana-weaving?
Other countries surely have their own!
Anyways I guess that’s part of the bonding process,
The world’s a global village after all
Now the festivities are close,
And I really need to breathe
But I see you grab that wig
I’m struck by sudden panic, what now?
Words fail me, to tell you
Of the many things you women do to me
And why your kindred won’t accept me
For what I truly am –
The fragile outgrowth from a follicle
Your plain and simple Hair