though, almost impossible to see
my little red whisker makes a mockery of me
its so damn small
the hair won't split
if it would just grow out
i could get to it
and alas no one will help me
i've asked everyone in town
but no one returns a small favor
for someone who begs from the ground
the barber thinks i'm crazy
my mama turned out her light
and everyone i have met lately
seems to think my whisker ain't right
so i fumble with my little fore finger
its stubbly tune i still play
and if it never gets any bigger
i'll know it was put there to stay
