I swear she's braided up her hair
A dozen times or more by now,
But still it is in disrepair
More than she's willing to allow
She reaches back again to seize
The central lock and twist it 'round;
Another half-twist done, and she's
Complete - and yet once more she's found
She does not like the way it sits
(Or maybe how it makes her seem)
So she dishevels it and fits
It once again into her scheme
Perhaps by Indy she'll have done
Her hair down straight - or in a bun.
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