15 April 2012

You walk in the salon

Sit down in the chair

Talk to the stylist

As she washes your hair

She dries it then you

Go to a seat

She gets out her scissors

This isn't a treat

You measure between

Your finger and thumb

How much you want off

I say 5 inches Then its the chop

Snip snip they go

Stop I scream

Now my hair is 5inches long

I cry out with sadness

She says she'll put it right

But it'll take years

She snips more

Even shorter

Then a big thick fringe

3 years later it's not long

Now I like it a tiny bit

huhugeHaircuts Poem • Opuss № I