Poem: Gone is the Tail


Your long, flowing hair.

I know you’re thinking about it.

It’s not what should have been.

Hundreds of years you’ve had it that way.

I know you think it wrong.

Hair grows back.

I pray that it does.

It must fit the mold.

You realize that.

Don’t have any fear.

It’s been put to use.

The return is good.

Even if the tail is gone.



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