RAZOR'S EDGE

[Guest guest]

Skilled like a demon barber, Sage shaved my head,

Clearly sheared my sense of 'I' and 'mine',

Ego, slain by sharpened razor's edge lies dead,

I'm free to savour ecstasy, a heady wine.

Heaps of golden locks lie on his salon floor,

Sweeps aren't to be dissected or numbered.

Bald, I walk boldly from this barber's door,

Free from care and fear, unencumbered.

 

Having shorn my waving shining hair,

I wildly stamp a dance of riotous joy,

Prancing madly in the transcendental air,

Happy as a star struck adolescent boy.

Attend the barber Sage, dear lads and girls,

And loose your selfish selves, not only curls.