What dire offence from am’rous causes springs,
What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
‘Tis none whose unimportance could compare 
To mankind’s quest for longer, thicker hair. 
So precious be extensions, braids, and weaves, 
Salons now find they’re set upon by thieves.

The terror spree in summertime began—  
Beauty Sensation looted by a clan, 
Who, once they’d run their truck right through the door, 
Stole every hair extension in the store.
And hardly had police begun their search
When crooks stole forty-thousand more of merch.

From KY Fashion, targeted the same
No matter how unfortunate the name. 
Another truck came crashing through a wall
And this time from Sense Beauty took a haul
If next Brashae’s was set upon by pigs
At least the rogues branched out and took some wigs. 

At last at Mr. Indian’s to rob
They found, for once, a Mister on the job.
With empty hands the hairless did take leave
The shops, for once, were granted a reprieve
From such a harsh, continuous attack
You almost hope the pixie cut comes back. 

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