Cometh The Hour Cometh The Man. Poem by Glenn Ford

The day was dull and the rain fell down, I was shopping in the local town
A shriek rang out 'He's got a knife! 'I turned to see a man in strife
A robber had a blade out straight his eyes were full of greed and hate
'Give me your money! ' he yelled at the man, people hid and people ran
I stood there gawping in fear and awe unable to move, stuck to the floor
Then as if by magic my anger rose no thought came to the path I chose
I ran at the robber with rapid pace there was a look of suprise etched on his face
My heart was thumping my breathing fast, could this action be my last?
I hit the assailant with all my might and sent him sprawling, then he took flight
'What are you doing? ' The victim sighed, 'Cut Cut! ' a voice behind me cried
People were laughing, there was no terror. I realised that I'd made an error
There was filming of a T.V. play, how I wish the embarrassment would fade away!