Blonde Poem by Janet Budd
Blonde
I wonder to be blonde. What signifies
That fair Madonna of the nativity
Playing before parental beaming eyes?
The paragon dark urchins fail to be.
I ponder on the sad sadistic Myra
Mixed up Marilyn, mysterious Marlene.
Iconic blondes exude peroxide fire
Out-do the dull plethora in between.
My brown, unwieldy curls are turning grey
I’ve battled long and never won the fight
To have a lustrous head of shining hair.
Now is the time to step into the light.
The rubber gloves are on, the bleach to hand.
For ridicule or praise I’ll take a chance
I prefer brunettes so don't worry and grey hair is in now you've got a really advanced mind and writing skill I really like the way you write hope to read more in the future and remember. Spread Yourself! ! ! ! !
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4/25/2024 11:24:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
To dye or not to dye? It's not quite as big a question as it sounds when you say it, but it has to be asked! Myself, I opted at about your age to dye my hair back to its original colour (boring brown) and I don't regret it though it gets expensive unless you do it yourself at home, which I now do! I like your poem - your examples of blondes are well chosen!