A Cutting Death

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,

The 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 the discarded hairs.


I’ll take just a trim,

Off my shaky old head.

So toss them aside,

Those cut hairs are dead.


27 thoughts on “A Cutting Death

  1. Mark Lanesbury

    🤣 Ah dear lady, I laughed so hard. My poor wee ones are faded and grey, barely an inch to a year. Each time I cut them I weep, so long to grow but lost so fast. I loved this ode to our courting curls…until their colors desert us 😂🤣

    Liked by 1 person


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