Beautiful long brown hair,
Straight as can be, flowing to my waist,
Short, curly locks, with a mind
of their own appear in its place,
From one generation to another the
unruly chestnut hair is passed,
Eyes that can defy anything,
Mysterious in origin, or so it seemed,
My mahogany eyes always hide something,
A small trace of great hardship
and miracle is left,
Just a pin line beside the
mysterious mahogany eyes,
It marks the marvelous courage of
a wondrous mother.
