Bald
A peeled onion is what I'm being called.
I'm pushing 50 years old and I'm going bald.
My hair is falling out at an alarming rate.
Women hate it, I can no longer get a date.
I bought a toupee but it was blown off by a gust of wind.
Everybody started laughing at me, even my own friends.
Some people think I have cancer and that I'm taking chemotherapy.
I can't believe how fast it's falling out, somebody up there must hate me.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
