Poetry for Fun

You never see him with out his beenie, he has a teenie, tiny weenie. Sometimes he feels like his is messed up, all is lost and all is fucked. Losing hair, why should he cair? No woman would dare... to step a foot in his lair. Practice, practice, supposedly perfect. When you think about it, is all that worth it? Hurting himself all by himself, most conversations made all by himself; Feeling lonely, living plainly, the thought of this will surely drain me.