I Once Knew A Stranger Poem by Anastasia Wofford

I once knew a stranger,
Who was stranger than I,
He lopped off his finger,
And didn’t even cry.

His name was Pong,
About thirty or so,
Where he was from,
Hell nobody knows!

The rumors around town,
Whispers and the dares,
Were all about Pong,
But I didn’t care.

He didn’t either,
He told me once,
He’d knocked out the Mayor,
With one sucker punch.

He’d run through the courtyard,
Right after church,
Naked as a jay bird,
And yell “Peace on Earth! ”

He’d stare at the wall,
Point and grin,
He looked crazy to all,
But he was my friend.

I heard a story before,
It goes something like this,
He worked till four,
Came home for an hour to rest.

Was back in by six,
He worked at the shore,
Not a day did he miss,
Hard work was no chore.

One day he didn’t show,
Their business was booming,
And didn’t call to let anyone know,
They wondered what happened to ‘em.

The Supervisor that night,
Went to his house,
Something didn’t seem right,
All the lights were out.

He knocked on the door,
And heard Pong cry,
In the fetal position on the floor,
Wielding a knife.

He had come home too soon,
And what did he find,
His wife and friend in the bedroom,
Their bodies intertwined.

Blinded by an overwhelming rage,
Blood running hot almost boiling,
Like a wild cat caught in a cage,
Like a fruitless worker, toiling.

He lunged forward,
Tried to grab him,
The only words he uttered,
“You were my friend! ”

He went to the closet,
To grab his things,
“Every one knew it.”
The words shot through his veins.

He turned slowly around,
He was going to teach him a lesson,
What he saw made him befuddled,
In his face was a Smith and Wesson.

He ducked and ran into the kitchen,
He heard a shot scream beside his ear,
The man came from the room then,
Pong could no longer hear clear.

His wife emerged and shouted,
“Mark, don’t...”
Then another shot rang out,
Pong covered his head, to protect it.

After a few moments he realized,
The shot was not for him,
It was for his wife,
Who lay on the floor there in the kitchen.

He crawled to her,
Kissed her forehead,
A few seconds later,
And she was dead.

As her last breath,
Still clung in the air,
With the rank smell of death,
His feelings changed to despair.

Mark cocked the hammer,
And the trigger he did slam,
He screamed in anger,
For the gun was jammed.

Pong reached on the counter,
And grabbed a knife,
It was a sad encounter,
He had to take his friends life.

He spent five years,
In a local mental hospital,
Long nights and many tears,
Thinking, about his double betrayal.

With his eulogy now read,
I closed my eyes again,
And lowered my head,
These were the final words I spoke of my friend.