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Her beautiful golden hair
Cascaded down to her shoulders
Lustrous and thick
If any girl could choose her hair
This hair would be her pick.

These locks belonged to a woman,
Who was long past her prime
Still, men loved her beautiful hair
I wished her hair was mine,

How did she keep it,
So immaculately clean
Not a single strand of hair
Out of place, seen.

She was not ugly,
Although her face,
It was wrinkled and lined
But her fabulous hair

Showed no grey over time,
Until the day I saw her
As I was out shopping
It was pouring with rain

And the rain was dropping,
All over the woman
With beautiful hair,
Who had no brolly,

With her there,
Suddenly, the wind
Started to blow things about,
A branch fell from a nearby tree

And made some people shout,
The golden-haired woman,
She struggled to open the door of her car
And then I saw it

Floating from afar
I did not recognise it at first
It looked like tangled wool,
In a matted mess

then I heard a cry,
It was a lady in distress
The lady opening her car
Devoid of her headdress

The golden tangled mass
That I saw floating in the sky
Was the woman's wig
I did not know whether to laugh or cry

I felt a little ashamed,
As I looked at this sad scene
Her head was the closest thing
To a peeled, boiled egg

That I have ever seen
I felt envious of this poor woman's hair
And assumed it was natural
And I thought it unfair

Her hair was so thick
And mine is extremely thin.
What a nasty frame of mind
To put yourself in

Envy is a curse,
That is for sure
I don't ever want to be,
Envious, anymore.

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