The Stranger

I usually like to set up a poem for the readers. It's kind of a way of telling you what I was thinking about, or which direction I thought you should look when listening to, or reading one of the poems on this blog. So, having said that, It may be better if you just read it and take from it whatever you put into it, you know, what place you saw, what sound you heard, what kind of wine you held in your hand.
 I could be wrong but...it may be just a little bit arrogant to think you should point someone in a particular direction...they're the ones who are reading it. Why should they want to see it from someone else's point of view.
So, having said that. I'm just happy that you took the time to read the poems and little short story/stuff you find on here. It really is all about you guys who take the time to read it.
This one is called "The Stranger."

Let me know what you saw...what you heard.

The Stranger

No-one knew what to expect

What the world might expect

From someone like you

When you walked into the room

The air filled in around you

Like you filled a void

The crowd relaxed

As though you

Made the scene complete

As though we were waiting

For someone like you

Our clothes uncomfortable

Our books unread

Our eyes against  one another

Misdirection, no direction, this direction, that

Whether it was your intention

Or just the weight of your presence

You were pulling us across space

And waiting for us to notice

Your light shining at the top of your tower

Warning those that might fly over

That there would be no safe landing

Someone from the crowd introduced you and

The room grew quiet

Murmur, whispered awe

Listening for your words

Watching your face

Of course, your betrayal

Was effortless

Brilliant and succinct

Your hair was perfect

And your eyes were jaded

Your smile tattooed

You were tailored, brushed and cut

A flash of gold on your cuff

A flash of sincerity in your words

And though you looked like us

We knew

That someone like you

Could never be someone like us

We knew what we expected

And we knew where we were from

We listened politely and shook our heads

Our cues taken from the injected humor

And we turned our backs

And we finished our drinks

Small sandwiches on tiny napkins

Watching you work the room  

And we secretly wished

We could be

But never would be

You