Behind the scene, the second man
Brows knit in a concerted frown
He knows not of laughter, or fears
His lips are pale, pressed tight
And his eyes watch...
And watch...
And watch...
In the shadows, the second man
Behind a pall, a mask; fixed face
And gazing eyes; approach him if you dare!
His words may sound harsh, but it is all
that he knows
And his eyes detect lies when he
scrutinises your face
You feel weak, demeaned, like he is alien,
strange
And when he is gone, do you recall his
name?
And does that same name have a face?
Underneath the trees, the second man
Steeling his will, setting his mind
Setting his smile and the rehearsal of
lines
His lips are pale, pressed tight
And his eyes watch...
And watch...
And watch...
I am the man in the shadows.
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