A round of applause for the act that has been put up.
Impressive.

Just wait and observe till the gush of wind lifts off the wig.
A peek at the balk skull toppling over from the venom and the neglect,
The barely audible hushed intake of breath and
the slightest widening of the pupils rings alarm bells.
The wig is grasped at rapidly,
in hopes of it not having revealed what’s meant to be hidden.
But some’s eyes save things faster than lightening.

And though naivety is existent in all to some levels,
Even a little girl couldn’t mistake the sight beneath the wig which has wounded so many.

Stealing the wig would be a great grand reveal to the world,
Though it might make the wounds scab and scar.

And some things might be better if left hidden,
That bald had might be better left heated than rid.

In the end, it’s the hand that places it there and combed it
Who gets to make the choice to conceal the truth or reveal the bald head.