Evil Hair
My hair is an evil mess,
tangled
and thick,
brushes
and combs
just won't fix.
I battle
and struggle
against the beast,
which fights back
with stings like teeth.
Eventually I give in
to those sharp stings
and let my hair be
so it stops hurting.
If it would just listen
and work with me,
it could look decent
and less fuzzy.
But it will do what it wants,
no matter what I say,
so I guess it wins,
again,
for yet another day.
Copyright © Brianna Little | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment