Think twas the night before Christmas…mmmk?
Twas the last day of Movember, and wherever you looked
Mustachioed men knew their gooses were cooked
The mustaches they grew with such love and such care
Were soon to be gone, their upper lip: bare
The razors were freed from their protective cases
And set loose upon men, shaving their faces
A pump of the lotion, and the flick of a wrist
The disorderly facial hairs were quickly dismissed
A collective cry was heard, from all ‘round the world
Mourning the loss of the mustache, that would never be twirled
To the bar they all ran, to drown their sorrows in scotch
Trying to regain their manliness, while grabbing their crotch
Lighting cigars, and consoling their brothers
Wishing that they could be like one of the others
Tom Selleck, Freddy Mercury, all Gods in their eyes
Hulk Hogan, Ron Burgundy the manliest guys
There’s Chaplin, and Hitler, Burt Reynolds to mention
Mustachioed men, commanding attention
But to those that are married, or soon taking a wife
Are doomed to hairless, the rest of their life.
My first foray back into the blogosphere? MAYBE.