Sun bunnies, beware! Don't let this happen to you! Slather on the sunblock, or reach for the Solarcaine! Guard against skin cancer. Your dermatologist and your skin will thank you.
A Rhymed Raging Over Signs of Aging
I once was young, but now am old;
My skin hangs off my face in folds.
The old libido's growing cold,
And I see Doctor Whack-a-Mole.
This nasty physical assault
Is, truthfully, my own darn fault.
I should have known just when to halt.
Now I see Doctor Whack-a-Mole.
I loved the sun and summer fun;
I'd tan my skin till it was done.
But dots and spots their course have run,
So I need Doctor Whack-a-Mole.
A freeze-off here, a snip-off there,
Until my skin is clean and fair,
With tiny band-aids everywhere
From good old Doctor Whack-a-Mole.
Some biopsies may be required;
On such occasions, I've perspired,
Until results had been inquired
Of dear old Doctor Whack-a-Mole.
And still I crave a sunny spot
To lounge and laze, do diddly-squat,
Although I'm sure, like it or not,
I'll soon see Doctor Whack-a-Mole.
If you are one who loves the sun,
Be careful; here's the 4-1-1:
Rub on the sunscreen; use a ton.
Or you'll see Doctor Whack-a-Mole.
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