It’s fifty years and counting since the start of my affair
My thirteenth birthday had just passed when I began to care
Before that, cool indifference, but it was always there
My whole life changed when I became attentive to my hair 

My childhood spent in jolly plaits, with ribbons gaily tied
At ten I graduated to a ponytail and slide
My hair was fine and wispy so I rarely wore it down
The colour came from mother’s side, a rich Celtic dark brown

While all my peers and classmates were having their hair snipped
Mine was still quite childish, tied back and Kirbygripped
My mum had been insistent that I had to wait a while
At fourteen I would be of age to undergo this trial

As times were hard, and pennies pinched, she sat me down herself
With scissors from the sideboard drawer, and bowl from kitchen shelf
My mother’s pudding basin cut was my induction hack
From that time onwards it was clear, there was no going back

From pageboy cut to Princess Di, so many styles to like 
Through Afro perm and trendy curls, short bob and elfin spike
With money short I’d chop myself, a mirror helped me there
Or let it go, and let it flow, at times I didn’t care

I’ve tried the mousses, gels and wax, and plumped it up with spray
It stays in shape for nigh two hours, collapsing the next day
My pixie cut was daring and too short to ever flop
The morning look was flat both sides but stuck up on the top

It’s such a strange phenomenon, I truly envy men
Us females have this burden from around the age of ten
The ones who have such natural curls, they yearn for smooth and sleek
But if it’s straight they’ll feel the need to roll it twice a week 

The only thing I haven’t tried is dreads all in a knot
But then my friends would think that I’d completely lost the plot 
Long and short and in between, I’ll never get it right
My hair affair will run and run, I see no end in sight