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Hair

Oh I love the battle of picking out hair, 
The grey ones the brown ones, mistaking the fair.
I thought it was charming that first little one, they have turned into bxxxers from that stray 
single one.
Now it's all turning as they bush from my bonce.
A blanket of grey is what I would see, if i wasn't plucking and dyeing day after day!!

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  1. Date: 11/10/2010 1:50:00 AM

    it is a good poem with a subtle strucrure

  1. Date: 8/29/2009 7:42:00 AM

    keep up the good fight! funny poem.

  1. Date: 8/28/2009 4:19:00 AM

    Don't pluck too many with that comes baldness. Time changes things doesn't it. I love the way that you expressed the topic of getting older. Keep writing. Sara