As the last playboy goes to ground
There’s scarcely a dry eye to be found,
So many ladies, so inconsolably bereaved,
So, twice as many trembling breasts heaved.
Down still shocked grim faces tears roll-
Proof that Botox, sadly, does take its toll,
Every single lady arrayed in mourning dress,
Best suited for cocktails, but black, nevertheless.
Service over, and it’s time to move on,
To look forward to a future with Hef gone,
For those close, his loss leaves a huge hole to fill,
So, it’s up to the Mansion to see what’s in the will.
There’s only the smell of Chanel left in the air-
Save for one solitary person also left in despair,
One last loyal friend who truly feels the loss most,
Welling up at the passing of a warm welcoming host.
He sinks to his knees, pounds on the crypt door,
From those eyes a veritable torrent of tears pour,
The Doctors tears tumble as unceasingly as Niagara Falls,
No more exorbitant house, no more emergency Viagra calls.