I waft around with carefree ease
As if I always shine
You’ve no idea the work it took
And how much ‘pamper time’ . . .
So hair is the big problem that
I need to pluck away
Cause caterpillar eyebrows will
Invade my face to play
And places where the men are meant
To proudly boast a ‘tashe
I stare with abject horror at
My darkened lip-hair stash
So bleach onslaughts the ghastly mess
Till ‘female’ is restored
Whilst other hair is thriving in
The places I’ve ignored
The razor glides and cuts it dead
Till smooth replaces hair
Such gleaming legs, but OH SO WHITE!
I’m dazzled by their glare
It’s on with tan from bottled source
To dull the white-legged glow
The patchy streaks will have to do
I hope they will not show
And is that ‘grey’ upon the mop
Of hair upon my head?
I thought I’d watch the telly, but
Must dye my hair instead
Now plucked and shaved and dyed and tanned
I think I’m nearly done
Oh God! Forget the make-up, I
Will frighten everyone . . .
The war-paint fixed, as with the smile
I’m feeling quite worn out
My toe nails house the garden mud
Are “FAR TOO LONG!” I shout
I file and clean and polish, so
My sandals do not scare
If only I could like the style I’ve
Mastered for my hair
Pull on, pull off, the mass of clothes
I don’t know what to wear
I’m shattered from this preening and
I’m starting not to care
Fix hair with spay, at last I’m done
To face the human race
With not a strand of hair or such
Appearing out of place
So striding forward, my head held high
No longer in despair
I like to seem quite effortless
‘Deception’, with a flare!
© Nicky Clifford 2016