𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬

In the echoes of the shears, a solemn requiem unfolds, 

Ten years of stories, in each strand, a tale retold. 

Dreadlocks, a tapestry of time, woven with care, 

A dedication to grandparents, a cultural affair.

With each snip, a piece of heritage falls, 

The weight of history held in those resilient coils. 

A tribute to ancestors who’ve journeyed beyond, 

Now severed, like ties to a world far and fond.

In the mirror, the reflection, a stark change, 

Gazing at the shorn threads, an emotional exchange. 

A sacrifice made, yet a lament in the air, 

For the cultural compass, once worn with flair.

The rhythm of the scissors, a dirge profound, 

As memories of ancestors in each lock were bound. 

A mourning for the strands that once cascaded free, 

Now gathered on the floor, a poignant decree.

The absence of weight, the void on my crown, 

A metamorphosis, a transformation profound. 

Yet, in the silence, the spirit of ancestors weeps, 

As the severed locks lie in mourning heaps.

Oh, the decision to cut, a melancholic refrain, 

A sacrifice made, yet not without pain. 

In the emptiness left by the shearing blade, 

A lamentation echoes for the cultural cascade.

For each dreadlock held a chapter untold, 

A connection to roots, a heritage bold. 

Now, as they lie in a mournful repose, 

A lament for the decision, where sorrow flows.