Not alive when born
But born when grown*
Black when born
White when old
from time to time sticking up
from time to time Lying lazy
from buddy to buddy very strict
from buddy to buddy very loving
from buddy to buddy very Fiersome
Do you know who i am?
I am none other than
The very common hair!
(*When a baby is born it has no hair. But while growing up, it gets the hair)
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Comments about this poem (50 Hair by Athul KrishnaA )
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