Lockdown Hairs

To save myself from the coronavirus wrath

I hid inside my home for four months

When I looked at my face in the mirror

I was indeed taken aback by horror

My face was nowhere to be seen

This is not exactly what I had foreseen

My hairs had begun kissing my lips

I hope it would never kiss my legs

I went inside to bring a pair of scissors

My Mother India didn't allow me to cut my hairs

My hair had spread its tentacles

Unable to chop it, I hit the wall with my knuckles

I stepped out with a terror look

Horrified, a small child threw his book

Have I got a special hair made by lockdown?

In others' eyes, I am certainly reduced to a clown