Locks

Scooped up, Tied in the car. No idea where I was going, Or how far. Pulled out, Dumped in a chair. Had finally arrived, Still alive. Momma said, " Hold still. You're due for a haircut." Held my breath, Then turned blue. What happen to my free will? Comb approached in hand, Scissors preparing to land. Off came my locks, Dumped on the floor. Could feel the breeze, As I ran for the door. Momma said," Hold it right there! Need to finish your hair." Finish my hair? With paint, Or glitter? A vast amount of locks gone. Only induces me to carry on. Out the door, With half my hair very bare!