Chin neighbour, non shaver,
Friend of my nose.
Inspired by Flanders and Stalin
My face-based furry darling.
You've made me hirsute and crinigerous
Bewhiskered and pilose
But now the time has come for me
To stop your bristly growth
Before we start, let me say
It's not you, it's me
We've drifted apart and now today
We've got to break free,
Spend some time apart.
Maybe you should see other faces
And I could try a beard, or inappropriately long ear hair.
I love you, and i'm proud of myself
For being pubescent enough
To grow facial hair at the age of 24
But you itch, and I think you were the cause of that cold.
My furry little friend alas,
Together we will not grow old
And mainly, I work with children and your presence has caused some upset.
So please don't make this harder than it has to be
I'm already filled with 'stache-based regret.
Goodbye for now my bristle baton
I hope that you will rest in more than pieces
Of shaving residue, blowing gently in the breeze
On my laminate floor.
Goodbye my noble snot mop,
My very own mouth merkin
I'll remember fondly these weeks you've truly served me.
I hope there's a heaven for moustaches
Where it rains wax
And the sound of the electric shaver
Is but a distant memory.
But, for now everytime I think of you
I'll gaze desolately
At your cousins - the lowly armpit hairs.
And softly, sadly,
Touch my lip.
Wishing you were there.