I know I shouldn't, but...

 
I know I shouldn't complain;
I've got ten fingers, ten toes,
an expansive wardrobe
just awaiting my new choice.
Recently, nearly every female
I've come across
has fallen deeply for me
and who can blame them?
I was such a handsome rogue,
sure, my ears were too big,
and then my hair,
standing on end, what was it doing?
But still, I cut a dashing figure,
didn't I,
whether in leather or stripes?
I've got enemies, sure,
it's inevitable
when you get to my age,
but I've also got friends
across time and space,
so I really know I shouldn't complain.
I can and do go anywhere,
adventure my constant companion,
tragedy sometimes coming to visit,
but the good times
are far more than enough
for any lifetime, no matter how ancient.
And I've had a lot more goes of this
than anyone else has been afforded.
So again,
I Honestly, Truly
know I shouldn't complain...
but as I look in the mirror again
all I can feel is disappointment,
and all I can think is;

damn, still not a ginger!













(Those who know the topic, will probably get what I'm talking about...those who don't will just read nonsensical ramblings!)