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I Took a Pill

Writer's picture: MANDRAKE PANMANDRAKE PAN

Considering a Wonder Pill For Hair Loss? Then This Poetic Cautionary Tale Will Tell You All You Need to Know!

I Took a Pill to Still the Shedding of My Hair
I Took a Pill to Still the Shedding of My Hair

I took a pill to still the shedding of my hair

A meanly coated obscenely green

Lozenge that had a glare

Of unnatural hue, so bright and beaming

It shed fitful colours across the ceiling.

And yet…

I tipped one from the pot and swallowed it

With a tot of rum without a jot of doubt.


I took a pill to still the shedding of my hair

Which offered a sickly, bitter, loathsome taste

That raced across my tongue apace

And made my fair cheeks flare.

‘Course, that’s before the chilling, skittering up my spine

Skating from my coccyx to my nape

To make me quiver and, doubtless, do some terrible

Damage to my liver.


I took a pill to still the shedding of my hair

And now I spy things that were never there:

Purple threatening shadows or enormous marrows

That seems to have replaced my slippers

And give me the jitters when I dare to poke my nose out

From behind my chair.

Yet still they’re there. Daring me to fling my feet toward the door

Before they catch me in their claws. If slippers can have such a thing.


I took a pill to still the shedding of my hair

In hope, I’d no longer grope my crown and find it bare.

Rather, I’d be granted, a thatch of matching

Gorgeous curls, planted upon my cranium like geraniums.

But no.

So, my endeavours proved entirely pointless.

With nothing categorical in the follicle department anointed

Upon my head.

Instead, I have glossy growths of tangling black fur upon each palm

And the alarming and sickening ambling sight of a thicket

Sprouting from each nostril.

But serves me right.


Taking pills to still the shedding of one’s hair

Especially those with unnatural glare

I report is quite the last resort.

Unless one is the sort with a daring personality

With the mentality to flirt with the possibility of finality.

Which I am not.

At least, not quite.

Until the sight of another brew or potion or pill

Fills me with the desire to acquire more hair.

Of which I am, sadly, too spare.

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