HAIR

Early this morning I saw a woman, maybe the same age as my Mom wearing a similar dress as she often wore.
The feeling of longing is again felt...

I remember my mother, She own the most beautiful hair, black and silky.
This is also the same hair that my sister inherited...
Shes always comb during the night while watching T.V.

People remember her with that beautiful hair.

But things that has beauty fades.
And during her lifetime, she experienced it literally...

As months passes her therapy stole her crowning glory...
She can feel every pieces of its strand fall on just a slightest pat.

Day by day shes being awaken by the whorl of fallen hair on her pillow.

She wore a bandanna to hid this sights not just on others but on her.

I can feel the agony, although she never show it to anybody I can feel it,
I am her son.

I often try to make a joke out of it,
Sometimes shes laugh but most shes insulted, just to mention about her hair.

I tried to ease the burden but shes strong enough to hid it for her own.
I tried and I know she feels it..