THE GROWTH

Got up with a grunt the other morning
went to sink to wash away sleep's trace
and there without a single warning
was something on my face.

The something, though, was not too much
although it was entirely new.
I reached and gave it a light touch,
it was kinda hard to view.

I shrugged and went on off to work
and put it out of mind.
I'm no hypochondriatic jerk
or any other kind.

But each day the growth increased
and started feeling rough and strange
as if the spring sun had released
a new sprout on the open range.

Yet I decided what the hell
no real reason for me to worry
because I didn't feel unwell
(and doctor's visits are not free)

Each day the growth just grew and grew
'till Susan reached to feel and trace
this stuff which was something new
and said "Stan, it's time to shave your face."