Ode to my Hair

Fri, 12/17/2021 - 03:37 -- azakama

My golden crown walks down my head 

And remodels itself as I lay in bed 

My body’s a mountain with my hair as its river 

Constantly waiting to deliver 

The feeling of a delicate cloud 

Which always makes me feel so proud, 

I sometimes struggle, taming this beast 

A gigantic monster that has been released  

Crunch, crunch, crunch as my comb goes through my curls 

As I remembered the words of my mothers and sisters 

That I should treasure the hair that shines like pearls 

From the oils, they worked hard getting, with blisters

Sometimes it feels gritty like sand or stone 

Or also as dry as bone   

My curls tightly wrap around those harsh words 

And turns them into sweet songs from birds 

She stands up for me more than I ever could 

Cause when she walks into a room 

They see her as bold 

In a good or bad way, she’ll still bloom

But overall, I love my coily hair  

Although sometimes it doesn’t feel fair 

Seeing others with their straight sun rays 

While mine feels like a maze 

I’ll never forget the power my crown holds 

Because there are other things that it enfolds 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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