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The Visitor

A blind middle aged man
sat alone in his new flat
listening to the silence;
he often sat like that.

He sensed someone close
and strained to hear.
“Hello, who’s there?
I know you’re here”

The silence remained unbroken,
but he knew he wasn’t alone.
“I ask again, what do you want;
why are you in my home? ”

He became anxiously fidgety,
“Why don’t you speak,
have you nothing to say,
or do you fear the weak?

You must know I’m blind
and I’m no threat to you,
so why don’t you speak
like normal people do?

Do you have trouble hearing?
Is that why you don’t respond?
Well, I’ll do the talking
and you just tag along.

Because I’m not convinced
that anyone’s really there
I’ll talk as if you are,
so interrupt when you care.

Are you a lonely guy like me
with no friends to talk to,
and do you spend your days
with nothing at all to do? ”

Have you been here long;
I mean here in my room?
I definitely know you’re here,
I hope you’ll speak soon? ”

“I’ve been here for that long
I can’t recall when I came,
but it was so very long ago
and every day’s the same.”

“You sound very sad and lonely,
as though life’s a drag for you.
Isn’t there any chance that life
will get better in a day or two? ”

“I’ve told you every day’s the same
and nothings going to change.
Nobody can do anything for me,
so nothing can be rearranged.”

“Don’t give up hope just yet
I’ll offer a helping hand.
I don’t know exactly how,
so help me to understand? ”

“There’s nothing anyone can do
the living or the dead.
I don’t have a place to live,
or anywhere to lay my head.

There’s no one I can talk with,
you’re the first for many a year
and if you had eyes to see
you certainly wouldn’t be here! ”

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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