PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I once knew a man I couldn’t know,

Whose hair was like a buffalo.

He lived in the park, up in a tree,

Where the birds and bugs would be,

And all he ever did was stare at me.



(I wouldn’t think they’d mind,

For he slept there half the time.)

And he never said a word,

But I’m sure it’d be quite obscure,

Though I passed him twice a day, as it were.



For weeks he never came or went,

His early 50 spent-

I wondered how he’d eat way up where,

But no one seemed to care,

And I almost started pulling out my hair.



So I climbed the tree to meet the man,

And see if I could understand-

But the only words he said

Were the ones straight from my head,

Not coming out his mouth but mine instead.



It scared me half to death,

And my hand it grabbed my chest

When it dawned upon my mind that he was me!

But as I looked around

When my feet had reached the ground,

I saw another man, so fearfully,

Looking at another tree.