Tresses of Truth

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In the jungle of coils, a crown of rebellion,

Kinks and curls, society's judgment, a damnation.

Straighten it out, they say, to be clean, to be pretty,

But behind the scenes, it's a painful city.

Combing through the struggles, detangling the lies,

Afro maintenance, a daily enterprise.

Call it unkept, but don't know the fight,

Wigs and straighteners, the armor we wear at night.

Kinky hair, a target for disdain,

Hated by many, but it's our beautiful terrain.

False ads, false gels, lies they deploy,

Leaving our strands dry, a beauty decoy.

Forced to conform, forced to change,

Society's rules, a twisted, messed-up range.

But here we stand, with strength untold,

In our natural glory, breaking the mold.

So, listen up, world, it's time to see,

The beauty in our roots, our hair, wild and free.

No more lies, no more pain,

It's time to embrace, time to make change.

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