Ode to the Messy Sock BunS

I saw it on Pinterest
One dull Friday night;
So smooth and so sleek,
It did everything right.

'Twas the bun of my dreams,
So perfect and round;
I wanted to do it—
I just didn't know how.

Monday came quickly
And saw me in my room,
With untamable bed head
And class starting soon.

This ballet-chic style
I was ready to rock;
In my one hand were scissors,
The other a sock.

A snip and a scrunch
And I pulled my hair through;
I steadied my mirror,
And rolled my new 'do.

But oh! This is where
It all fell apart!
No structure, no smoothness;
Such a maddening start.

And with nine o'clock nearing,
I needed to dash—
I threw my hair in a clip
And that sock in the trash.

Fast forward six months;
I'd long given up hope.
With lesser hairstyles
I'd managed to cope.

'Til my sister returned
From a trip 'cross the sea,
With a stretchy brown donut
She gifted to me.

I tried it that night,
Hardly daring to breathe.
The first try was messy,
But the second was a dream.

Monday morning I woke,
And eagerly did my hair...
But my bun wouldn't stay!
I was filled with despair.

I tried on the Metro
The whole way to work,
But my bun was successful
As Miley Ray's twerk.

Tuesday's bun was a failure;
Wednesday's was too.
I didn't try Thursday,
It would just make me blue.

Today I kept trying,
Even sought help from my dad;
The final bun was lumpy,
But it wasn't... too bad?

So with that, I declare:
The messy sock bun is in.
Even lumpy and weird,
It keeps my hair off my skin.

And you know what? I think it's perfect,
All casual class.
My messy sock bun is cool,
And Pinterest can kiss my ass.