Poetry they say it's genetic

[Snafu in the Void]

with a beer in my hand I'm on the offensive,
I'm about 7 scores away from winning
but the audience faces away,
it's a farce
it's a dream
it's not what I've been waiting for
as my temple wrinkles
and I'm slowly losing my hair.

I wonder if God is bald
does he lick his fingers after his work?