A collection of writing by young minds
As I remember, she and I always had different hair. Hers was blonde, a box of Top Ramen Noodles on her head. It barely reached past her shoulders and bounced every time she laughed.
Mine was dark and straight, like someone took a paintbrush and painted it on. It hung to my mid back, swinging as I darted across the sand-colored wood chips.
When it rained the first time this year, her hair dampened and turned into a dark dirty brown; it lay flat on her head, all straight and dark. And as I remember that was the only time our hair looked alike.
The chair cried when he was dragged across the ground.
My hair is like waves of a beach. It’s tangled a lot. It is the color of chocolate. My hair is all over the place.
When I touch my hair it’s really ruff. My hair is really messy in the morning. I always put my hair in a bun or ponytail.
I don't like when i leave my hair open.
It’s hard to handle my hair when it's open. My hair's really thick. That's my hair!
Feels like a deep forest at night
Looks like the black creature that swims with another
The bird that sets me free from all that hurts me
Like a deep color bound to be kept
My armor that protects me
Wrapping me away, so my fear will fly away
My hair drenched when cleaned
With little twigs sticking out
The naughty cat that hates to get wet
The hair I hate, the hair I love
To the moon and back, I and my hair alone
Each piece rising like a blooming skyscraper