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.”
[...] Read more
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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