I often set the table,
For every one to eat,
But people look at my place close,
And think that it’s not neat,
Okay so I’m left handed,
But it’s really not a thing,
Quite often we are gifted,
We like to write, to draw, or sing (not me),
But whilst I’m really normal,
I like to think I’m weird,
44 left handed retired lawyer,
Martial Artist with a beard…
I wouldn’t say I’m ticklish,
But then I wouldn’t say I’m weird,
Truth is I’m both these things and more,
All wrapped up with a beard…
When I last went out for dinner,
People were looking at me weird,
It’s only when I got home late,
I saw burger in my beard.
The rain mats down my matted beard,
For me I am a mess,
But then I do not case so much,
Yo could say I couldn’t care less.
It’s now been such a long time,
That I have had a beard,
That if I went clean shaven,
I’d probably find it weird.
My friend she made some pesto,
It was green and tasted weird,
Its only redeeming quality was,
It made me trim my beard.
I don’t think that I look too weird,
I’m not sure why I am scary,
Perhaps it is the big beard,
And that the rest of me is hairy.
A lady came to me on the bus saying,
“Please don’t think I’m weird”,
“I couldn’t help but notice”,
“But you’ve got breakfast in your beard”