My Dad Helped Me Brush My Bald Head
Bald babies plucked like peaches
Their skulls devoid of hair
In their hearts, possibility without compare
These bald babies.
Oh these bald babies
Free of fuzz, of feathered fishtails
and fanned fringes
Seen as song silenced,
not salient, but there is beauty
in a blank canvas
These bald babies.
Oh these bald babies
Undeserved of wigs or wants,
bald babies rock their naked crowns
Their scalps like precious mirror, shine
defying nature—turning heads around.
break the mold with follicles scarce;
a bald baby’s bounty abounds.
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Loving the alliteration