Maanasa Bhaskar

The Comb - Poem by Maanasa Bhaskar

p>Strands of hair,
that is in me,
How much disgusting,
would they be?

Pieces of plastic,
I am made with,
Accurately  divided
into open slits.

Sharp as I could be,
perfectly gliding,
through the hair of
black, brown &
golden! ! !

Various shapes
Different designs,
Ugh! ! ! only chore
for me,
to clean up
your messy hair....

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 27, 2012

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