Samson Poem by Guy Northam

How did you not wake when the razor touched your head,
And the warm oil, as your seven locks were shed?

Was it so purposeful, the sleep that you slept
Or, curled on her groin, did you know what to expect

Deep down in your holy of holies,
That woman is unfaithful and changes what she wants? Only

God the Father is with you when the palace crashes down
But absent and without solace on the road into town.