A Poem about my friend Spike (and his hair).

Now the other day when my hair was shortened
I came to realise just how important
Hair dressers are in their pursuit
of maintaining always those hirsuite
unshaven, bobbed and hairy
members of our society.

Now I know you all mock me because i may harbour
Strong and sure feelings towards the good barber
I'll try to convince you, though it may be no use
to love and respect the man with the mousse
So here's a tale about a guy they called spike
Or A shaggy dog story, if thats what you'd like.

As you can guess Spikes name was his nature
And clearly his barnet was his best feature.
It rose from his head like some stalagtite
a beautious barnet, a hair raising sight
But then problems beset this poor spikey fella
that couldn't be solved with clairol or Wella.

One day when he woke and he looked in the mirror
he saw something frightful, his quiff gave a quiver
the quiver it slowly gave way to despair
Poor Spike he was losing all of his hair
He searched on the pillow, looked under his chair
But he couldn't find it anywhere
He pulled up his floorboards and looked out of the window
Oh where Oh where did all of his hair go?

After a while he gave up all hope
and for weeks and weeks later proceeded to mope
Until one day when just as he feared
All of his hair had gone; disappeared.
Then he thought, 'well why should I care
I can get by without all my hair
I was born without hair, and now I have none
Life it continues just as it begun'

But after a while it started to grate
When everyone mocked Spike's Shiny bald pate
And just like his hair, Spike's patience grew thin
So he sat down one day and had a good think.

Months went by, then perhaps years
unshaven spike grew 15 foot hairs
only this time from out of his chin did they bristle
Til at last Spike spoke 'Eureka!' and let out a whistle.
He Rang up his Barber and Made an appointment
Only this time he didn't need hair growing ointment.

The barber he chopped and he wove and he sculpted
One scary moment he even looked like he'd pulped it
But then at last when it was all ready
He placed the rug upon Spikes balden heady

Now Spike walks with his head held high
With great hairy locks pointed straight at the sky
Slaphead and spam he was once called
but that was then when he used to be bald
For now Spikes hair is larger than big
(except that of course he now wears a wig)

And the moral of this long and epic story
is if you're bald there's no need to worry
and if your hair it starts to get thin
then look no further than down on your chin.
A hair piece woven from your bristly beard
will cure all at once what once had been feared.