He hides in the crowd
Afraid for his life
He curls up in panic
He knows there’s a knife.
He’s yanked to the fore
With nary thought
The cutting is quick
For those that are caught
The action is swift
Their life force is done
No more to shine
His days in the sun.
Death sweeps away
The thoughts and the cares
All that remains
Are discarded hairs.
I’ll take just a trim
Off my shaky old head
So toss them aside
Those cut hairs are dead!
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An onion has many layers. So have I!
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Retired from the University of Texas and too old to play soccer anymore. Now, in the twilight of his years, time is spent writing in this blog, hiking and exploring Texas Parks, photography, working out, gardening and tending to the five ponds he built .
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This is hysterical!! Your twisted endings never cease to amaze me. Sheesh, I’ll be getting a haircut in a couple of weeks……should I hold a memorial service for my dead hair on the salon floor?!! Lol.
Fun post Pam. Love your sketch!
🐾Ginger 🐾
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Always a pleasure Ginger! Say a silent pray and then sweep those suckers away!
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The was an unexpected (but welcome) twist, Pam. Thanks for jolting my brain into gear today.
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I am glad you enjoyed it!
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hahaha Excellent poem. 😀
And I also love your sophisticated lady sketch. 🙂
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Thank you, on both counts!
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Very welcome. 😀
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You got me!! A twist indeed!!😃
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hee hee hee
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Ha ha ha. Thanks, Pamela.
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My pleasure John.
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Cute
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Thanks
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I must be an executioner then Pam, I get a No1 electric comb all over 😀
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ooooh A mass cutter!
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lol…very good! 😀
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