Author S. K. Nicholas

sometimes

i get so alone

that my beard’s the only thing that

keeps me company

this scraggly old beard of mine

neither here nor there

its colour not true

too scruffy and unrefined

lacking class and style

sometimes there’s nothing more

i want

than to cut the fucker from my face

’cause its sympathy

is false

making me feel cheap

and pitied like a beggar

i don’t need it weighing me down

like a brick in the face

sat here smoking

and drinking beer

i dont know what i want

but although

my beard looks stupid

its colour disfigured and immature

it’s who i am

and who i am

suits me just fine