Thousands of us all around you.
We protect you all the time,
Yet you treat us badly...
You burn us in public buildings
to make you seem better;
You try to make us straight,
but most of us refuse usually;
When we are dead, you are pleased.
Yet, when we are gone, you are sad.
What are we?
Is it hair? :D
Women who try to straighten their hair with hot blow-dryers, mistreating it, and trying to make it straight? :P
edited to add: Sorry, I didn't notice "hair" was already posted as a solution. :)
Edited on June 8, 2004, 12:53 pm
Posted by Eliza
on 2004-06-08 12:51:53