“Merry me a barber’s cut?”
As I hear. From but a single jot. Never to forget. Even with downs shut
With gestures ever not. In manners to give anything but.
A friend. Dearly a figure I heed past.
With stubborn disarray. And ribbon of red.
Simile to everlasting dread. And scissors scoffed.
We did ourselves the barber’s cut.
Snip, snap, snip
A callous epiphany grating these ears. All deceased. Passing through the years.
They fall. None of those. Each of us singular but plural. Only left to bawl.
In silence. Emotions speak.
With violence. Voided the strength of the weak.
Snap, snip, snap
There it is again. The bad omens. Scars. My uncharitable fears.
So weak as I. Just as the next to blind all mine so dear.
A memory shared and loved. Moved by the gears.
Of our never ending clockwork. Hands we shared. Barren to jeer.
Even after. You leave the rear.
Snip, snip, snap
Times unbroken. Times unstained. Times cheered.
Seemingly. Ends I couldn’t meet. Beginnings you couldn’t leave.
Too attached. Too hard. Too endeared.
So ours continued. Never ended. Never began. But always we shear.
Snap, snap, snip
As is without fright. You cut mine. I cut yours. No need for mirrors.
You see your face in mine. I hear my voice in yours. Indifferent.
Never the same. Together. With what we have left
I was blind. You were deaf.
I hear the right snap of the ribbons. You see art.
Oddities crippling our sleeves. Never to drift apart.
Snip, snip, snip
It falls. Into the stinking abyss. As we perform our dance. With longing.
Always wanting. Always loathing. Your ears I chip.
Snap, snap, snap
It falls again. Out the twisted. As we make the chance. With sobbing.
Always needing. Always loving. My eyes you seize.
We halt. Merry me that.
Barber’s cut. Became our last.
And so begins this ticking clock.
To the lonely barber. And his ever daunting rock.