The Man He Thought He Knew Poem by Concetta Salter

Hidden in the darkness.
A monster in your eye's.
Living in the harshness,
of all your evil lies.

How you think you know me.
My life and all my sins.
I wish you'd let me be.
Your voice now makes me sick.

Hardened by your judgment.
Swimming in your doubt.
Locked inside a dungeon.
There seems to be no out.

Years have turned me colder.
There's no more wamth inside.
Hatreds made me bolder.
I speak what's on my mind.

Blood and death and carnage,
is all I long to see.
You'll never get a harness,
on what was good in me.

I've taken one to many.
One to many blows.
And now i'll show you plenty,
of the evil I now hold.

Take your shot at fighting.
You'll never stand a chance.
I'll relish all your whining.
So come on, take your stance.

Oh, now I see you shaking.
Tell me, are you scared?
I wonder if your faking.
But wait, I see your tears.

So, so, so pathetic.
That's what you've come to be.
It's your fault i'm eccentric.
It's your fault that I seeth.

So why can't I deliver,
the final fatal blow?
Why do I now shiver?
Why, I do not know.

I leave you torn and battered.
But soon, you'll be yourself.
Why to me it matters,
makes my mind now dwell.

With all that I have suffered.
With all the blows I took.
Why could I not muster,
to kill the man who shook?

He had the chance to kill me.
I could have killed him to.
But than i'd truly be,
the man he thought he knew.