The Haircut

The day was here that all boys fear,
The only time I sit so still,
The dreaded hours in that chair,
“Why do I have to cut my hair?”

Mom finds the cape for Superman,
I try to fight and take my stand,
But she wins out with kryptonite,
“Does it have to be cut tonight?”

She combs my hair with great delight,
I squirm in horror at the sight,
She reaches for the kit she bought,
I think next time I WON’T be caught.

It begins with hairs falling down,
I struggle to breathe, will I drown?
She cuts and combs painfully slow,
The hair piles up beneath my toes.

She smiles and says, “There’s that cute face!”
Oh, I can’t wait to leave this place,
At last she stops and says, “All done!”
But then that shower starts to run.

Behind the lines

Dedicated to all who’ve worn the cape and couldn’t escape.