I dedicate this poem to all of the influential and opening minded women I have met along in my travels. I also dedicate this poem to all of the women in the world that wished for the beauty of long silky hair as well as those, who hair will never be the same due to harsh chemical abuse! Last to the many ignorant men that have no idea what a women goes through to preserve the youth and integrity of their hair.
Dax, Burgamont, Royal Crown, and Ultra-Sheen. Pink-lotion, “Perfect for Perms”, and oil cream. We dye our hairs and relax those strands, some of us old school people use that hot comb in hand…
Strength from the root is what we sometimes forget we reject nature’s essence for that technological fix. Scientific creations from mutilated herbs, pestilent grass or wealthy curds. Elixirs that promise, creams that a swear, in the end breakage from somewhere.
Flat irons, curling irons, to the max force our hair into painful wraps. We wake up in the morning for they fall, still it did not look like the box cover I saw. What the hell I read the line; the conditioner needed a little more time. Why so little time and many confusing choices never the less we still end up mentally unfocused.
Strength from the root is what we sometimes forget we reject nature’s essence from that technological fix. If we just be ourselves and let nature work its way our ebony would be stronger everyday. The wind is kind the water is clean set hair free a day from irons and steam. For just a day, give it a rest your hair truly knows what’s best! Nature will help it knows it path, if you were meant to have hair; you’ll have it minus the wrath from the technological fixes that do the un-stitches.
Braids for growth tactics, corn-rolls for beauty, micros are still un-rulely. For faces are pushed back, our eyes shaper than the Chinese, can we still walk the streets so greedily? At the end of the day did we prove much? Empress the supposed guy we like so much? Who happened to be the very same one that really never cared much? Or achieve hate from a rival who got her undies in a bunch? For a group of conspirers to wish doom on you.
Strength from the root is what we sometimes forget. We reject nature’s essence for that technological fix. We try to balance the furies and inoculate the substances with crap we don’t think of the repercussions. Hair can only take but so much if you force it beyond its limits it will fold up, break off, crinkle, like yesterdays dry gram cracker. We think we know but sometimes we don’t the stuff we put in our hair is not always so healthy and when its finally through only to have that guy or girl, man or woman not to truly appreciate the work you put into your hair.
Which would you prefer? The simple or the not? The process that would have been publicly forgot. By society that never gave crock. That time of hell and frustration for that person of no consideration.
Strength from the root is what we sometimes forget. We reject nature’s essence for that technological fix. That false promise of golden beauty tips. All things take time it will not happen night besides we all spent many years undoing that natural tie.