Forging ahead with fictional endeavours: ~ Write a life on a page and hurry not to its grave; abhor not the coming age, for eternal is the next page. ~ Read what you will, I hope you will enjoy reading as much as I do writing.

Don’t listen!

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”


Same nose

Same face

Same eyes



Now differently framed.

Lesson learned:

Don’t listen to the voices in your brain.


Comments on: "Don’t listen!" (4)

  1. haha the end made me laugh 🙂

  2. judithcmoore said:

    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…

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