(Painting: Picasso’s Girl Before a Mirror)

 

Once upon a time there was a girl,

Because that’s how all good stories start.

She had red in her hair and a smile in her stare

And at the front of her hair was a curl.

 

She loved her lone curl,

Played with it all the time.

But the other children did not like her quirk,

And teased, and pointed, all with a smirk.

 

So sad was she to be so all alone,

And convinced that there was something for which she had to atone,

That she took up her comb and sat on her bed,

And set about flattening her curl to her head.

 

When all of this was done,

And her curl lay flat,

She walked to the mirror,

Her grin one of a Cheshire cat.

 

And the next day the boys and girls teased her none,

And she began to think that she had won.

But then her head twitched and the wind blew hard enough to shake rocks,

And up her curl sprang like a jack in the box.

Because sometimes, no matter how hard you try,

There are some things that just cannot,or will not, lie.

 

And then this girl,

As her life stretched ahead,

Became proud of the curl,

Atop of her head.

 

Because no matter what you say or do,

People will always somehow find fault with you.

But it is also clear, like all important things are,

That often the strangest people go far.

 

So do not forget as you feel your strange happy lives unfurl,

That she still found great happiness as the girl with the curl.

 

Published by Lucy Mack