Again.... ***

He looks closely, wishful for more hair
On his upper lip, but alas it is quite spare
A pencil he uses to darken, but to his despair
Its no use, but that’s how it’s fated to be
Puffing up his chest, feeling more manly is he
At last ready, to face her, and for her to see.
Angelic, divine, enchanting, words fail
As he gazes in her direction feeling frail
She notices not, the gangly boy in her haste
Too caught up, hurrying, not a moment to waste
But who can fight destiny, so it comes to be
They are matchmade, a couple to be
Married now, in each other they rejoice
Every moment to be together, by choice
Until one day, she declares in boundless joy
We shall be three, with a girl, or perhaps a boy
At first puzzled, he soon enough understands
And jumps for joy, almost out of his pants
Soon everyone notices the large tummy
No doubt about it, she would soon be a mummy
Soon one day, the little one arrives
Bringing out all manner of visitors in droves
He grows everyday by leaps and bounds
Always in mischief damaging in pounds
He is in school, and soon in college
Until he too stands before the mirror
Examining, and wishing for more hair
On his upper lip, where it was quite spare.
Nearby stands his dad, also wishing for more hair
On his shiny pate, which is quite bare.