I am a small boy, with big hair
My follicles have taken over.
Each morning, I emerge tousled
With locks more unruly than before.
I push it back distractedly
But it springs back incorrigible.
There is no mystery about
The monster I have created.
On calls, my barnet blooming
Fills the screen unchecked.
It continues gravity defying
No hair appointments threaten its domain.
I am a small boy, with big hair,
It's either this spectacle
Or let my mum have a go.