The Follicle
A strand, a lock, a hair unfurled. I've grown the greatest in all the world. Upon thy mask of flesh I've found The single most splendid beard in town.
But alas, oh woe is me, My face is fuzzed but in my dreams... The night is long with cheeks of ice, Oh! how it must be warm and nice- To only have a beard...
A kiss bestowed to I, stubble does not grace. And no matter how hard i may try, I've found nary a follicle upon thy face.








