THREE OF GREY

Three strands of gray hair. Three that have taken a place on my head, a place

where it was once shinny and bare.   I never thought I would see the day, when the

hair on my head would turn from brown to gray.  My bald spot is where my honey

could once run her fingers through and play.  I really never thought that I would ever

see these three strands of gray.

I began to lose my hair at an early age.  I never thought I would see gray hair at

such an early stage.  One gray would be ok; two would be too much to see.

Hey look Mom! Look and see, not one, not two, but three.  There are three strands of

gray hair hanging onto me.

Gray? Could it be that ol father time is finally catching up with me? 

I could live with one, or maybe two. But I don't think that I can live with three. So Mom! 

You know better then me, what shall I do now that I have these three Strands of gray?

Not one, not two, but three.

It all may sound a bit funny to you, but believe me; I'd rather have strands of blue. 

I've heard it said, out with the old, and in with the new, but this is serious what shall I do? 

Give me one, or give me two, or take all three and just give me strands of blue.

I could pull them all out one by one, but two more may appear at a place where there

was none.   Pulling one out may bring back two; at least that is what they say.  So here goes

nothing. I don't believe in any of those ol wives tales any way.

I pulled out one, I pulled out two.  I pulled out all three strands of gray.  And then the

very next day much to my surprise, four came back right away. Then all four hung over my

eyes. This time when I pulled out all four,  I wished they would all stay away and not come

back anymore.

This maybe just a thought, but I could use that hair dye that my honey bought, so no

more on the floor will I have to cry.  I think that I will, I think that I might.  I think that I will

color my hair tomorrow, no wait, I think that I will tonight.

Now to my strands of gray I can look into the mirror and say, you will all come back

again someday, but for now it's adios, good luck, and its time to say goodbye.

                

                   Written by Kenneth "Murel" Crum Jr.     November 10th, 1993