The Barber of Secretspt2

In the twilight, shadows creep,

A whisper of secrets that I keep.

Thoughts swirling like smoke in the air,

In this fragile heart, I’m entrapped in despair.

A man in an apron, with a gleam in his eye,

Slice of the razor, the hair falls awry.

But behind every laugh, there’s a tremor of dread,

As he hums a soft tune, counting sheep in their bed.

In the mirror's reflection, truths start to uncoil,

A demon in disguise, hidden under the foil.

Though charm and a smile cover rage that's within,

You’ll find out too late once the scissors begin.

Oh, the barber of secrets, the keeper of lies,

With every snip, he darkens the skies.

He'll make you look pretty, a portrait of grace,

But beneath that fine charm, there’s a ghostly embrace.

He trims the edges, then sharpens his blade,

A sweet little smile, though his conscience has faded.

Each laugh that you share, a sob echoing deep,

Behind velvet curtains, the shadows still creep.

With every line drawn, trust starts to unravel,

In this game he plays, you’re a hero or gravel.

Cutting your hair was the easy part done,

But it’s the heart that he seeks, a cold devil to shun.

Oh, the barber of secrets, the keeper of lies,

With every snip, he darkens the skies.

He'll make you look pretty, a portrait of grace,

But beneath that fine charm, there’s a ghostly embrace.

Suns set low, and the moon starts to rise,

In the space between breaths, there's truth in disguise.

So hold onto your whispers, don’t let them break free,

For in this fine chair, only shadows will see.

Oh, the barber of secrets, he knows all your sins,

Behind every haircut, a battle that spins.

So remember, dear friend, as you weave through your dreams,

Not every cut’s straight, as it quietly seems.