Alopecia, balding creature! Once my mane grew.
It was lustrous, fluffy, puffed pompadour-style.
People noted and they quoted: “That’s a mane slew!”
Showed no proto-alopecia, pompa-pile.

In a while, a thinning cover: alopecia.
One by one silky strands started to depart.
“No!” I screamed when I’d seen even more strip;
and then my stare yielded cry fare.
Like a storm came my tears; alopecia
revealed my dome; hair roamed; I moaned like unpaid tart.

In a while, a thinner cover: alopecia
even swifter did the silky strands depart.
Shower’s stream on my bean made much more strip;
I would cry there as dropped my hair.
Like a storm came my jeers; “Alopecia,
you’ve shown my dome!” I moaned. Mane combed was a lost art.

Alopecia. Balding geezer.