What's happened to my hairline?
I fear it is receding.
My head gleams in the sunshine,
in spite of all my pleading
to God, and once to Satan,
to set it in a straight line.
But after all my waiting,
what's happened to my hairline?
Last week, during a dinner,
dad said I have good breeding,
but still my hair gets thinner.
I fear it is receding.
Mom said that I need more meat;
I nodded and drank more wine.
I wipe my brow. In this heat
my head gleams in the sunshine.
I'm really young. Why now, God?
Is this your way of weeding?
I'm balding! I will look odd,
in spite of all my pleading.