The golden curls she used to know
Back in her younger years,
Now have changed, not gradually,
To sparkling copper swirls.
The copper curls sit next to her,
As she watches his diligent hand.
His beauty she cannot resist,
Even though it’s against better verdict.
She merely looks upon his curls.
She dare not come too close,
For if she did, she would surely know,
The maniac that lives inside.
So solemnly she gazes upon his curls,
And she silently tells herself,
“Just wait because the time, it comes,
It comes too quickly and goes to never be seen again.”