Hairy Harry

Dear hairy Harry

I do know your fate
You'll grow

And grow

Until I cannot see your face
You'll be ripe and muddy
And so I will

Have very

Many gripes-

I will not stop

Until I drop
And each and every
Ruddy lock
Is on the study tile
You will gawk
At the gaudy brew
And pour the glue

Right on your vile crown

Then stick on each and every

Single grimy lock-

Your frown will be

Turned upside down

Forget the backlash

Because I do believe

You may even treat yourself

To a nice mustache