Hair

Because hair grows,
An entire population of villagers
Comes and goes though nobody knows;
They work in the city salons,
Washing our hair on and on.

Because hair turns white,
An entire population of chemicals
Mixes and flows in colorful shows
After large funds are expended
Though God never intended.

Because hair falls out,
An entire population of rabbits
Shrinks and grows and suffers the blows
Of experiments in stages
In a thousand metal cages.

What befell the rabbits taken from their fields;
What befell the chemicals in their toxic yields;
What befell the villagers in the salons they built
No one could predict, though we all got the bill.

For as sure as hair grows,
We are prisoners of our nature
In a world where our stature
Turns on hair styles and clothes.