May 31, 2009
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and Hair
The perfect concoction for disaster

I was eleven
He was six
I am the mastermind
and He the victim

The first timid snip
Lasted three point eight seconds
Just enough time
To lose all civil ordinance
and Restriction

I unleashed a furry
Of flashing silver brilliance
Hair plummeting to the floor
My brother’s giggles
Utterly hysteric

I swelled with pride
As I examined my
Chaotic beauty

Mother wasn’t pleased
but We were having
The time of our lives
and That made her smile

and Laughs
The perfect concoction

of Happiness.

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