A beautiful poem by Sherry Dyanne:

Little fro

I remember,
a long long time ago
When I had. just a Little Fro
My mother used to comb a lot.
2 make sure it didn’t knot
I’d cry and seigh and wonder why
the comb wasn’t a friend of mine.
Then started dreaming of relax
some curly curls or some dread

And that’s just what I did,
the first chance I got.
Ironed every naturel curl,
straight out of my locks.
But the hasle,
was far more than the gain
Due to naturel curly hair,
the wind and the rain

Now growing my locks is so much fun
The dreads have been the easiest thing
I’ve have ever done.
Having tried so many thing,
it’s funny see
I made this journey,
just to get to me

{Image courtesy by Marieke Dijkhof}