I wish that my beard as long enough to tie up the hands of criminals when I catch them in the act of a robbery. I wish my beard was long enough to braid into a trampoline, to save children who are falling to their deaths. I wish my beard was long enough to weave into a basket, in which I would store Granny Smith apples, preserving them, keeping them at their ripest for days. I wish my beard was long enough to feed Africa. But alas, it is not.
Alas, criminals will run free. Alas, children will likely plunge to their deaths. Alas, apples will become mealy. Alas, Alas... My apologies, Africa.