Don’t Let Me Die With a Beard Dear

Don’t let me die with a beard dear,

Remember the struggle I’ve had,

To protect and preserve,

To renew and deserve,

I’m worth it you know,

Just this once.

 

The plucking, the waxing, the constant pursuit,

For a face that defied Father Time,

You’ll be ten years younger tomorrow it said,

On a gold embossed box bought on line.

 

The hormone replacement got left on the shelf

As I sought to remove the constraint

Of middle aged flushes, camouflaged by silk brushes

And a lifetime of dabbling in paint.

 

Don’t let me die with a beard dear,

Heat gently, apply, and then pull,

I won’t feel a thing as you pluck that damn thing

That derides my ambition of lull.

 

Don’t let me die with a beard dear,

Make sure there’s an orderly queue,

No lingering please as they view the deceased

Lying peacefully there, Sans Revlon.