OVER THE HILL

Fairlight

There are signs that you are over the hill
The doctor exclaiming “You’ve got to take pills!
Statins and blockers and other great meds
And exactly what is that growing out of your head?”

It’s one of the hairs that’s completely gone rogue
It appeared with my sudden desire for brogues
My forehead has recently chosen to spawn
A filament so gross it looks like a horn

And naturally eyebrows then go berserk
And there’s odd bits and bobs that no longer work
And dribbling occurs from here and from there
Luckily stemmed by even more growths of hair

This Pandora’s box is full of such shocks
Most evident when trying to pull on your socks
With feet out of reach and hardly in sight
It’s time to bow out, exit stage right.

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