Poem – Stripped


I stripped my hair colour with great devotion,
Using a skull and crossbones type potion.
This paint stripper ripped the dye out – how lucky,
But it turned my hair brittle orange, like Chucky.

Coated my head Mahogany in hasty defence,
As easy as creosoting the partition fence.

I stripped my hair of health and vitality,
Force fed it chemicals, faced time for GHD.
Devoid of shine with sparse natural movement,
It was no longer grey, which was an improvement.

The colours did not enhance or improve,
They only served to destroy and remove.
Stripped away character and self worth,
An imposter with split ends that cost the earth.

I stripped my hair of colour with great devotion,
Slowly and kindly, without a whiff of a potion.
When it was unmasked and no longer tainted,
The silver was resplendent and would not be painted.


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