31 May 2012
In truth I'm rather worried, I've got something on my mind, I must have - this keeps happening, Yet I feel quite blind.
I don't want to say it aloud, So I'll try it down in words, Let Opuss hear my plight, And hope that I'll be heard.
Every time I wake up, I'm worse than after sleep, Exhaustion pulls me everywhere, Pulls me under deep.
But that is not my problem, That's a minor glitch, There's something worse with me: A truly worrying hitch.
Anyone who knows me, Describes me from my hair, But what if I was saying... That it's barely there.
Yes, what I am hedging, Is that I'm worrying, I don't know how to stop myself- From what is happening.
I'm pulling at my hair, My blondey-auburn mess, It's looser by the hour, Deteriorating tress by tress.
It's something I take comfort in, My long and thick, thick hair, There's no words for what I'd feel, If suddenly it weren't there.
Pr0blem • Opuss № I