"The Close Shave"

He stares into the mirror  
he doesn't like what he sees  
age has taken him  
his action will betray him  
 
He removes his bath robe  
and grasps the shiny metallic blade  
he proceeds to shave every part  
of his body hair  
it falls to the floor  
like feathers in the morning breeze.  
soon he will be able to feel.  
 
He is naked  
he grabs scissors  
pulls at his greying locks  
strand by strand his hair  
leaves his head like a old  
friend leaving for battle.  
he takes the blade  
now his brother in arms  
and glides its sharp form over his head  
faster, and faster, harder and harder  
he pushes the blade through the soft  
spongy flesh upon his head.  
 
Crimson rain drips into the sink  
shaking hands with the dirty water  
that had already taken residence  
he smiles.  
 
He begins to glide the blade over his face  
first the chin, then the neck, followed  
by the top of his lip  
faster and faster harder and harder  
his face becomes mush  
red raw a ghastly shade of crimson  
spays over the white exterior  
the tiles and the bath mat have joined  
the red color scheme of the waiting  
room in hell, finally he can feel.  
 
He marvel's at himself, he is a shadow  
of his former self, Unrecognizable  
who am i? he wonders "i could be anyone"
he ponders.  
Fear takes over the drivers controls  
what has he done?, what has he become?  
what would his children think?  
there will be no picnics at the park  
no more days out.  
he weeps, his tears join that of the  
cascading blood from his face.  
he leans back and with the full force  
of gravity and movement, at his disposal  
headbutts the mirror in front of him  
broken glass cut the already mutilated form  
he fall to the floor  
at last he can feel!  
 
He awakes to find his face intact  
his body hair still grows in the right places  
was it just a dream?  
 or a close shave indeed!