Immersed in the depths of dark despair,
I ponder: What shade to dye my hair?
Red like April? Black like Cher?
Yellow’d; to match my underwear?
No that’s just silly!
But then, Slick Willy,
Adopted a salt and pepper shade.
It got him elected! It got him laid!
But I’ll eschew his precedent.
I’ve no wish to be President…
A festive blonde hue, I'd surely try it
If only I had hair, to dye it.
Of my once thick locks remains no follicle.
Not hank, nor wisp, nor strand, nor molecule.
No colors can the stylist bring,
Oh dyeing’s not an easy thing.
The preceding doggerel was ruthlessly stricken from Helium.coms website, violently excised from the pack of 108 tear jerking opus magni to the top of which (via their own rating system) it was relentlessly rising, like a turd in a swimming pool.
I pronounce you Humorless Nerd, vile Heliumite, and rest assured, I'll insert another where you least expect it.
Just like Prom night, hmmm?