Memories of Hair

Last summer, I laughed, took a chance on a style,

a photo resurfaces, a mirror of pain,

my friend remembers, it makes me recoil,

it’s all too familiar, I cringe and I strain.

Like a bird that got tangled in branches too wide,

the fringe on my forehead, a peak of regret,

what was once bold, just a quirky inside,

a highlight of humor that brings on the fret.

Oh, the layers I asked for, the layers that mocked,

I can see the missteps in every wild lock,

a snapshot of folly, a memory locked,

just a haircut to haunt me, the punchline’s the shock.