feeling the breeze flow through my long long hair
running my fingers through it
not finding the way out of it
mesmerized by its beauty
and starring at its brightness
now it's all gone to waste
every single component of it
is now somewhere I don't know of
every year I had grown it
measuring my every progress
and in a blink of an eye
all of my years of preparation
have no meaning whatsoever
beauty my mom always described no longer applied to me
the family tradition was broken
when the scissors took its life away
letting it float to the ground
as if there were no meaning behind it
not a living family tradition
which it represented to me