The Man Who Was Standing Behind - Poem by Orlando Belo
I was in a conference centre full of people,
and a man called out my name.
His voice was louder than the chattering,
and he shouted it out again.
His voice wasn’t at all familiar,
and no one knew I was here.
This was a lonely hearts club meeting
for singles who also enjoyed a beer.
For a third time he called out my name,
and my I.D. tag gave me away.
The woman with whom I was talking
waved her arms and shouted “Hey.”
I left her presence quite quickly
and became lost in the crowd.
I didn’t look to see who was calling,
but he was persistent and shouting loud.
People all around me were fainting,
for no reason they dropped like flies,
but then I heard leather to wood footsteps
above the peoples’ sighs and cries.
I slowly looked all around me
and somehow I knew it was my time,
I was leaving one way or another,
with the man who was standing behind.
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