Bad Hair Day (A poem)

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I am having a bad hair day. My problems won't go away. Strands of hair dance upon my face. It's a troublesome disgrace. Hair is flying here and there. Now it's way up in the air. When it lands, I can't say. I wish that my hair problems Wouldn't stay. Now my hair is juggling some balls. That's kind of crazy. Watch as they fall. Now my hair is raising the flag. Please stop this at once. Help me Dad. Yes, a bad hair day is not at all funny. It makes my disposition anything but sunny.