Ode to My Hairbrush

As you gracefully stroke my hair, like a mother comforting her child,

gently descending from my roots to every last strand, separating and undoing knots,

I realize, I have taken you for granted.

I strangle you with hair ties and suffocate you with clumps of blonde;

Yet not a single morning, have I opened my drawer and found you there, 

unready to take on my tangled locks.

Bristle by bristle, you comb your way to freedom

making sure every knot is gone by the time you reach the ends of my hair.

the rough journey you start and complete so often takes much dedication,

but one may mistake you as a brush of steel with your amount of strength,

yet at the same time, you are ever so gentle

your performance is spectacular, but the results are even better

leaving me with soft luxurious hair, smooth as silk.

tackling the job like a knight fights a dragon

and slaying the dragon every time.