An ode to a beard. A beard on my face.

This, on my face, is a beard. A beard that will be shaven off within the next couple of days assuming everything goes to plan. It is a good beard, some may even say, a strong beard. The hairs, they shine in their new found length as do my bristles, who seek commanding union to my face. My beard is a good beard.

So it is here, at this impasse of man and hair, that I bid you farewell. May the crossroads of lazy and I don't give a fuck never meet once again.

Goodbye dear friend.