She colored it red, then platinum
her locks now gold, then grey
she never let the current fashion trends
get a hold, or in her way
She liked it short, then long
curled, and then strait
medium, in bun, or braids
no dare to brave, or great
She matched her eyes, then handbag
her shoes, coordinated
her car, the perfect shade of pink
her dye, so formulated
Only did her lover notice
where it all went so wrong
the drapes don't match the carpet
some things, will never, get along