OK, I can no longer say
I’ve got a receding hairline
and sure everyone can see
the plain fact, the bald fact -
but there are pleasures, you know
I’ve saved heaps on hair gel
and shampoos and conditioners
and I can actually feel the cool air
(no one can call me hot-headed)
and the great thing now
is everyone says with all honesty
I’m sexy as Sean Connery
(what they say behind my back
is none of my business)
but the best blessing of all
is I never need to look for my comb
(I confess I was always misplacing it)
and so I don’t need to reach for my wife’s comb
and so she lies as still as a pussycat
and she doesn’t need to roar
like a lioness
first thing in the morning:
Don’t you dare touch my comb!
Ah, the blessings that flow in eminent baldness
Raj Arumugam
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-the-pleasures-of-being-bald/
