Beard

 

The day I turned thirteen

There came shooting out my face

A tough and tangled thicket

That felt truly out of place

I hacked at it with shears

Until I had cut free

But before the sun rose

It had grown back branches like a tree

I dusted off my hacksaw

And although it took all day

By evening I had managed

To get most out of the way

The third day I got lost

In a wild and wavy wood

I tried to find a way out

But I didn’t think I could

On morning four I saw this dude

Who was completely bald

He said “Brother, I know how you’re feeling

If the truth be told

Take this balding cream here

And spread it on your chin

Your beard will come right off

So you can put it in the bin.”

I did as was instructed

And found that he was right!

Now I had a hairless chin

A truly charming sight!

Although a few years later

When I couldn’t grow a ‘tash

I thought back to my thicket

As if that was greener grass

© Ben Cotton

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