Garland Jodie Jeen (1/7/1989 / China, HK)
The Best Way to Comb the Blonde Hair
>Years is the worst unforgivable hairstylist
He cuts my hair short;
shorter than our short story..
He cuts my hair off;
off the last relationship..
Now it's 4 sharp in the afternoon,
i, wooden, seize the comb, wooden.
Mirror does not tell lies
age can only climb high.
the comb runs through my hair
my hair flows through somewhere
more strands of hair are gone..
more worries are born
I forget how I combed hair
back in those years..
A young blonde is coming..
and i gonna ask her this question.
Comments about this poem (The Best Way to Comb the Blonde Hair by Garland Jodie Jeen )
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