It's a rainy day <br />Nobody peeps yet? <br />I sweep the floor <br />Last night's gathering <br />All sort of hair. <br />And it's very hard to segregrate <br />This's King's and that's Pauper's <br />Some were straight and some kinky, <br />Anyway I took the shovel and collected <br />All into the same bin. <br />And a customer comes in, <br />Offered me a big note <br />For a Crew cut! <br />I said sorry as I do not have change. <br />And he promised to return the money <br />Some other day but he never returned. <br />And quite sometimes I came to know <br />That he's a rebellious blacklisted Lawyer <br />From a quiet village. <br />And he's killed by an unknown <br />On his way home at midnight! <br />Still I could sniff that odor <br />Some kind of spirit in the soul! <br /> <br />*Death will come on padded feet <br />Carrying Roses in its mouth. <br />-Charles Bukowski<br /><br />nimal dunuhinga<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-barber-writes/
