Silly poem about a hairbrush.
Image via Wikipedia
My hair has to look perfect.
My hair has to be right.
If one hair is out of place,
I’ll be crying all day and night.
So I take my precious brush
I’ve been using for twenty years,
And I brush one hundred strokes
Until my perfection leads me to tears.
The chicks all adore me
Thanks to my gorgeous, manly hair.
It’s wavy and a natural brown.
Please handle with the greatest of care.
Thank you my gold plated brush.
You are my truest friend.
With you there is no phoniness;
With you there is no pretend.
As long as you stay by my side,
I’ll be forever in your debt.
I owe my cool hair thanks to you.
For you, I’ll never be upset.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!