Me and my hair plait

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 I feel the entire universe weighing on my plait

Neither I could free it up to carry the unknown dust and ashes

Nor could I feel better with a band, leaving it like a broom.

                          I feel like I carry a rope of pride along my neck                         



That adds an outlook to my charisma.

I know, it’s not easy to manage the universe

As easy as I carry on my head.

I would wash it and let it shine

With the foams of purity

And set it right in fields with my comb.

I would rather cut it short,

Make it easily fold in the pockets of health.

I make my hair firmer and survivor

To form galaxies that make lives.

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