My hair a black devil
A fallen Angel
Wants to come back to heaven
It's turning white sooner than it should often
Bleaching sins
my hair takes it slow , aiming for small wins
My hair is having an existential criss
It can't decide if it should rebel , curl
Or straighten in submission
My hair ,my body's best friends supports it
Taking too much space
Breaking at the ends like most if my
dreams
White hairs planted in my skull like
trees for all
Them sins my hair redeems
Aya Bendechache©
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