The Silent Man

by J Alan - Not entered

He walked along the crowded street,
A man that no one knew.
His tracks erased by other’s feet
And noticed by but few.

I used to see him now and then,
Passing in the throng.
I often wondered where he’d been
And if he’d been there long.

He never stopped or altered pace,
Just slowly passed on by.
I knew his shape though not his face,
Yet never questioned why.

I’m not sure what drew me
To the man who passed so near.
He'd never turned his glance to see
This stranger watching here.

I'd seen the man for several years
Passing in the rain.
Somehow I knew his eyes had tears
And his face was etched with pain.

He seemed to be much older
Than he really ought to be.
His life appeared much colder,
A man of mystery.

Although he never raised his head
I‘m sure he sensed me there.
Somehow I knew with icy dread
We’d meet somehow, somewhere.

The day it happened was very cold
As he passed along my way.
I knew I must be strong and bold
For this would be the day.

As I stepped out of my door
I saw his shape nearby.
Though filled with fear, I needed more.
My feet began to fly.

I grabbed him by the shoulder
And turned him round to me.
I felt my heart grow bolder,
His face I feared to see.

He did not seem to be surprised,
And he did not try to flee.
He raised his face, without a word.
For the silent man was me.
Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1998-03-29 10:32:11
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:40:06
Poem ID: 49168

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