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Belinda O'connell Poem
The black ones I got from my mother,
The glamourpuss Welsh princess;
The red ones came from my dad,
The freckled Irish redbeard;
The blonde ones were mine as a baby,
Ringlets that bounced when I ran;
As a child I turned to a light brunette,
Thick and fine, flecked with my ancestry.
But the grey ones are all my own doing:
I made them, I earned them, I deserve them,
I worried them into my life,
I worked and partied, I pushed myself for them,
Those late nights are there to be seen,
And all the hair dye in the world
Can't cover up who I've been.
Copyright © Belinda O'Connell | Year Posted 2017
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