I wrote this because my parents made my get my hair cut yesterday and it made me sad. So, I wrote a poem. I once was hot, but now I'm not. My hair was once long and taut But now it is short and I look like a dork Changing hairstyles as often as Bjork. 'Tis short and direct, and not very poerty-y, but you get the point.
I disagree with the hair being lovely part...Short and sweet knocks the ladies dead. Do what I did and strike a deal with your parents (EG. style it, look after it) experiment with looks and keep experimenting till they find a look that you all like...But I loved the poem...It's the type I can relate to(HAVE rlated to not now) but anyway good luck with your hair and try to keep writing whatevers on your mind it works...Well ttfn-tata for now
