What Remains

Guarding against close scrutinyAs morning turns to day,A thing that my eyes cannot seeSince he sent us away.Take a snapshot, that's all I need,For memories likely mislead.Take a snapshot!Take a snapshot--A thousand words too much to read.

Guarding against close scrutiny,Hiding imperfection,Masking emotions brutallyFrom any inspection,My father's beard of bushy hair--Young men wish theirs could grow so fair--My father's beard,My father's beard,I seem to see it everywhere.

Guarding against close scrutinyWhatever lies beneath,Rebuffing with impunityAn eye for the discreet.He fades away in picture frames,Yet one thing still my mind retains:He fades away,He fades away...His face is gone-- the beard remains.