Wild, even my hair will not submit -
flies feral from its follicle
and in the wind, maniacal.
On occasion, it has lain straight
composed in faux conformity
but never as a verity.
And now it silvers at its root
bewitching hysterical youth
and cackling throughout its fugue.
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good writing, I like it, thanks. please read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love this one. Its entertaining and evocative.