A quick poemy poem. Although I am not sure I can call this a poem since the center is very much free verse, but hey ho. Basically I is bored and up too late with coffee again…
So a little side note about this one – it is based off a personal experience involving boredom and a pair of scissors. So I issue a crazy-coffee-bean warning for this one. Another, more important note regards the quote I have inserted into my ‘poem’. This quote is directly drawn from an old, famous Autralian folk song ‘Click go the shears’, a shearers song whose rhythm actually was quite beneficial to the speed of shear blows when shearing sheep.
Staring in the mirror
Reflection staring back
Somethings wrong
Somethings just not right
Same nose
Same face
Same eyes
“I’m bored of this appearance.”
“I should be I’ve had this hairstyle forever?”
“What should I do?”
“Do you think I’d look good with bangs?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“Let’s get the scissors!”
“Click go the shears, boys! Click, Click, Click”
OOOO
Same nose
Same face
Same eyes
Unaltered
Unchanged
Now differently framed.
Lesson learned:
Don’t listen to the voices in your brain.
Next stop: The End. 
Comments on: "Don’t listen!" (4)
haha the end made me laugh 🙂
Doesn’t it just? Actually I started with the final line in mind.
There have been so many times when I have had to actively stop myself from cutting my own hair when holding any pairs of scissors. I feel you.
It’s just a good thing I didn’t have a box of hair dye just lying around. Other wise I would have bleached blonde bangs too. Not good look.
Scissors are dangerousness. First time I took of 5 inches because I liked the sound the scissors made…