Ode to the Vanity of Youth

 Just a quick one.
Found this in an old notebook of mine the other day and thought, "Why not stick it in the blog?"

The hair grows thin upon my head,
"You're going bald" the barber said.
Not just the front but on the top
Of what was once a healthy mop.
Each morning as I go downstairs
The shower floods with all my hairs
They block the plughole in the bath
And I can hear my father laugh.
"I told you not to mock me son,
Or call me slaphead, having fun
At my expense, 'cause these things tend
To bite you back, so in the end
You'll turn out just as bald as me.
I told you to just wait and see.
Now clear the blockage from the plug
Before your mother sees that rug."
There has to be another way
To overcome my sheer dismay 
At what is happening to my hair.
 I might just play for Manchester,
Like Bobby Charlton with his strands
Arranged across by expert hands.
Or rather than just sit and cry
I'll audition for the King and I.

I think I wrote it when I was in my twenties. Didn't turn out too badly as the photo below shows, I've still got a decent head of hair.

See ya later