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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #523773

when a hair cut hurts

Ah the razor edge
of a bad hair style.
Suddenly snipping off
a good day at the root.

Scissors to the heart
and a sick stomach,
Tear trails curl down
over cheeks.

Though the head
knows that the
hot iron anger and
gelled diappointment
will eventually
grow away,
the heart feels it
is permanent.
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