Morning Holocaust (Original poem)

Razors rendering skin defenseless
Against this relentless
Attack against the stubble
The subtle growth of hair overnight
Has sparked another fight

Scared skin cells call out
Seeming to be screaming in horror
As the four or more bladed beast
Comes to feast upon their brethren
Leaving reddened casualties in its midst

As it takes a generation of hair and skin
How grave was their sin
To want to grow and exist

The hymn of the skin
Has always been
One of bystanding innocence
Through their reluctant defense of hair
They've lost the share of layers
So at night they say their prayers
In mourning...
While secretly hating
The invading hair
That evokes the wrath of God every morning.

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If you like this, check out some of my other stuff.

TGIF - Original Spoken Word Poem
One - a poem about math and love
Free photo - a cool photo I took of a spider and its web. Free to use without attribution.
Something to Say - spoken word about why I write