Oh hair brush, you’ve
served me so well.
Because of you,
I have no tangles to tell
of in my wavy locks that have,
because of lockdown,
grown so long, even
covering my frown.
You’re overlooked
as an essential item
until you’re lost and
I have to buy one.
De-tangler, paddle brush or vented,
you’re part of me
and I’m never tempted
To go natural, preferring
dreadlocks, all waxed together with
my hair in knots.
You have no taste
that I can sense
but if you did it would be
a fragrance, even insence;
jasmine or orange, maybe
apple. Sweet and pleasant,
never offensive.
Looking at you is
not inspiring me to
take a photo and
make it viral. However you
will always be needed until
I die or I’m bald. So take
heart, knowing you
are loved.