From her somber soul,
Lies a tale of memories untold,
A burden carried upon her crown,
Where sadness and pain have deeply grown.
With each strand that gently falls,
A story whispered, the heart recalls,
The weight of memories, heavy and deep,
In tresses cascading, secrets to keep.
Long locks, once flowing with pride,
Now burdened with tears she cannot hide,
She stands before the mirror's gaze,
Seeking solace in a drastic change.
To release the sorrow, the weight it bears,
In the swift snip of her flowing hair.
From the remnants of a love now lost,
And memories that linger at great cost.
Locks of ebony, now fall to the floor,
As the echoes of heartache begin to pour,
Each strand a symbol of pain and strife,
She wields the shears, reclaiming her life.
In each snip, she finds a sense of release,
A shedding of sadness, a moment of peace,
The strands once cherished, now set her free,
To embrace the woman she's destined to be.
With each passing moment, she grows anew,
A transformation, as her spirit breaks through,
Her reflection in the mirror, fierce and strong,
A testament to the courage that can right the wrong.
The short strands now frame her face,
A symbol of resilience, a poetic embrace,
Of the battles fought and the tears once shed,
A reminder that healing lies ahead.
Gone are the days of sorrow's reign,
As she embraces a future, free from pain,
Her cropped hair, a symbol of rebirth,
A testament to her immeasurable worth.
With newfound strength, she takes a stand,
No longer bound by the past's cruel hand,
Her hair may be short, but her spirit is vast,
A symbol of the resilience that will forever last.
For in the act of cutting her hair,
She found the courage to repair,
The fragments of her shattered heart,
And make a fresh, courageous start.
So, let her story be a guiding light,
For those who battle through the darkest night,
That sometimes, to heal, we must let go,
And in the cutting, our true selves can grow.
