Treasure Island

GEORGE AMADI


Time It Was


Tufts, which from my unshaven face grew,
Mocked by a mirror worn over time,
Yet, in the morning sunshine
Basked in the rays of light,
An itchy chin set on fire.

Time it was
In the prime of my youth
When growing a beard,
Which the lips barely left visible,
A sense of adolescent rebellion
Rewarded, more so, at a time
My Fatherland with a civil war contended.

Time it was
In the prime of my youth
When looking good was everything;
When dabbing a cut chin with Old Spice,
Trying hard a smooth face to give your baby
Who had guys lined up, if you didn’t play ball.

But there comes a time of mourning in your life,
When having a smooth face for the girls
Must take a back-seat; when
Feeling good, looking good
Into the dust-bin of vanity
Discarded should be.

For twenty-one days and as many nights,
What a sad time it was,
Did I, unshaved, in utter surrender
To itches, unfriendly remarks
Remained, my focus,
On heavenly delights,
For the soul
Of a beloved sister riveted.

Submitted: Monday, March 10, 2014
Edited: Monday, March 10, 2014

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Topic(s): life

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