A POEM - THE STRANGE FELLOW

THE STRANGE FELLOW
He came into the bar
sat down next to me.
Right next to me.
I tried to ignore him
but after he’d tapped me on the arm
several times
I turned to him and said,
“WHAT?”
He licked his thin lips
and his eyes were fierce and desperate,
embedded deep into his pale green face.
“you don’t know what it’s like, do you?” he asked.
“You don’t know what it’s like
to be haunted by your frantic, murderous self!”
I studied his eyes
so fierce
so desperate.
“I’ve moved past pain and fear,” I said.
“I’m a complete human being now.”
He swallowed hard and hissed,
“you’ve never known god’s wrath,
but you will.”
“maybe I will,” I smiled,
“but it can be no worse
than what life has to offer.”
“oh!” he shouted. “oh!”
He jumped off his barstool
ran back out the door,
clenching his head in his hands.
The barmaid finally made it down
to where I was sitting.
“what was that all about?” she asked.
I took a sip from my glass
and muttered,
“I don’t know, dear.
I guess he didn’t want a drink after all.”