What Grew When Cut

When the hair fell, so did the truth

🌲👁️‍🗨️🌲

In a forest, dark – shadows move,

Quickly, quietly, through the groove,

Hair appears, in crested nooks,

Oft reviled, oft overlooked.

🕸️💀🕸️

The hair now grows, too long and fast

Creeps on the floor, on green ballasts,

It grips branches, lopes unseen

Its whispers carried over streams.

🪦🌑🪦

The Truth appears, grim and bare,

Towering, threatens – those who dare

Body wrapped from head to waist

In hair long and coarse, ropes from the grave.

🩸🌿🩸

Its iron grip, I cannot defy,

Joined with hair’s fears, its outright lies –

I cannot halt its onward form

Its unwieldy hair, against the norm.

🕷️🖤🕷️

A single hair, dropped, left behind,

Curls ’round the wrists, around the minds

Of those who ditch harsh truths, those who betray

The hair wraps and grips – forever stays.

🌘🕯️🌘

Original poem by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

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