Thursday, October 30, 2014

Trip to the Barber Shop

After a long day of sleep and drool,
I finally return home from school.
I look in the mirror, to see if I look cool,
My family tells me I need a haircut.
Why must they be so cruel?

They proceed to tell me I look like a mutt.
This is a real blow to the gut.
I walk away, through the door I have now shut.
I guess they are right.
My hair looks a little like King Tut.

To the barber shop, I take flight.
My hair gave the barber quite a fright.
I tell him "please just cut it right?"
At this, he shows pity on me.
All he says to this is "alright"

Now that my hair is cut, I feel free.
I look in the mirror and shout "WHOOPEEE!"
This was more successful than the Battle of the Philippine Sea.
I look at the barber, and shake his hand.
I'm so happy! (to a tolerable degree)

This haircut is so grand!
I return back home, ready to take a firm stand.
My family looks at me and says "It's so bland"
I stare at the ground, ready to punch an ostrich in the face.
All I can think to say is, "this did not go as planned..."


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