I'm Growing A Beard! Poem by Charles Nnamuka

Do I look like a brother? ; I mean the one from the north
Each time we cross path, you keep thinking I'm nut.
You can stare at this mad man all you want
I don't give a 'Fffffff'...I mean the four finger tableware;
I don't bloody care!
...I am growing a beard! !

My beard will a statement
The days of pleasing you is over
Yes! it's the world against me
I'm not gonna comb my hair
I'm not fixing my shoe lace
Dude! I dont give a damn
I'm growing a beard! !

We are the remains of real men
Who says beards are not for gentlemen?
You know how long it took to grow this?
My beard is a testament of my patience

I am not a writer, but I got a story to tell
If you think you know better, please take a trip to hell
By the religious, i'm closely watched
But He knows, yes He knows! only God
Though a black man from Africa, I may be,
But in my heart, not as black as my goatee.

Downside is, sometimes I get stuffs caught in my beard like soup, dust, women...and all that.
I'm neither a woman nor a child
Don't ask me why I keep my beards.

Each man ought to use his nose
And let another breathe his own.
People are like rice -they just want a nice stew
But I choose to shut my ears and shut my eyes too.

My girlfriend doesn't think i'm her boyfriend...she thinks I'm her MAN.

This poem may be pointless
...but I swear it's nothing like a sagging breast.