The Man Who Plucked All His Gray Hairs

The Man Who Plucked

All His Gray Hairs

Woke up one day

With hair that was blue

He didn’t mind

Having blue hair

But in the middle

Of all that blue hair

Was one long gray hair

That must have escaped

The first purge

The Man plucked the last

Gray hair

And when he woke up

The next day

All his blue hair

Had turned bright yellow

And he did not like having

Bright yellow hair

So he went to the salon

And asked them

To dye his hair something

Other than yellow

They dyed his hair red

And he liked it

Very much

But when he went home

He found a gray hair

Near his ear

And he plucked it

Wondering how it had managed

To not turn yellow

And then be dyed red

As soon as he plucked

What he thought
Was the very very very last gray hair

All his hair fell out

Into a clump on the floor

The Man was very irritated at this

Even though men without hair

Are often very attractive

Because he was not

One of those men

And so he gathered up

All the red hair--

(After first checking

That there were no other grays

In the clump)

--And he glued the hair back on

He went to sleep

And when he woke up

The glue was gone

But the hair had turned

Into a mohawk

And the Man quite liked that

But the color was--

Gray

A gray mohawk

The Man was furious

And he went to the salon

And told them

They needed to dye the mohawk
Any color other than gray

The colorist dyed the mohawk green

And even though the Man

Is not the biggest fan of green

He was glad to see the gray gone

And that night

Before bed

He checked and checked

But couldn’t find

Any rogue gray hairs

In his mohawk

And so he had the first

Real night’s sleep

He’d had in ages

But when he woke up

He found...a wrinkle

The Man went to a skin doctor

And the skin doctor gave him a cream

And he applied the cream

And the wrinkle softened

But it didn’t go away

And the next day

There was another wrinkle

And soon, he had many wrinkles

And he did not look bad

But he did not look like

A Man Without Wrinkles either

While he was worrying

About his wrinkles

He seemed to be making

Even more wrinkles

And a gray hair

Returned to his head

And then another

And then another

The Man began plucking them

But by then

They had taken over

And when he went

To get his hair dyed

He found that the salon had closed

And in its place

Was a cigar shop and emporium

Somehow everything had changed

And everything had gone back

To how it was

And the Man was asked

By his friends

To come out with them

And enjoy life a bit

As they had not seen him in ages

He turned them down

Because he wanted to stay in

Putting on skin cream

Plucking gray hairs

And researching what to do

About the extra weight

He seemed to be gaining

There was a lesson to learn

In all of this

But the Man wasn’t ready

To learn it

But sometimes wisdom

Comes with age

And it’s possible

He just needed to grow

A little bit

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