Harry’s bun. Us feeling
silly poetic. This is the outcome.
When Harry rocked a teeny tiny high ponytail,
Everyone was “Holy Grail!”
He didn’t look like a California quail.
But most of his fans in a musical scale,
Demanded “Harry, cut your hair!”.
Wore it while playing tennis and drinking kale,
Was a reasonable tall tale.
But then he’d just started to walk around,
Without wearing his cotton crown veil
And telling everyone
“Hey! That’s the heroic tale of my teeny tiny high ponytail!”.
When the tour started back
Brown curls were on his neck
We weren’t sure what he was doing
But he kept his hair blooming.
In spite of all the articles making fun
of his now cute little bun
He just kept on improving,
We never really saw it coming
But we were already done
By the power of Harry Styles’ bun.
When some fans out of the blue
“Harry! Buy some shampoo!”
It was so overwhelming!
Looking at him strutting his locks
Send us in shock
From head to socks,
Oh Harry, please stop!
But look who it pops!
A proper bun on his top!
It grows more luscious every day
When he pulls his luminous locks up into a bun
Is hot as fuck
We must say.
Harry Harry with your hair in a bun
What are you trying to do, you sweet plum?