The Man with Another Face

Wherever I go, whatever I do

He follows me up the street,

I cross the road and he crosses it too,

We never actually meet,

He knows I know, it’s a waiting game

For I know he knows I know,

No matter how often I give him the slip

He’s there, where I get to go.

 

I have no clue what he wants with me

But he’s going to have to wait,

I often stop, and he walks on by

Or I hide by the garden gate,

Then just when I think the coast is clear

He pops up, out of the blue,

Or reads the paper and catches the bus,

Just as I catch it, too.

 

I try to pretend that he isn’t there

That I’m sitting quite on my own,

I don’t know whether he’s dark or fair,

I sit and play with my phone,

He seems to know when I’m getting off

He’s the first one off the bus,

And I’ve often thought to stay in my seat

But I don’t like making a fuss.

 

At work, I see him in offices

That are off the beaten track,

When I’m on my way to the novices

His eyes burn holes in my back,

If I take an early minute he’s there

Propped up by the factory gate,

Deep in a conversation with

A guy I thought was a mate.

 

I’m not going to let it get to me,

I won’t let him get me down,

I try to pretend he’s a nobody

When really, he’s such a clown.

He wears a million different suits

Is always changing his hat,

He walks a dog and he smokes a pipe

And he changes, just like that!

 

I thought I’d go to the police one day

To say he was stalking me,

They asked for a brief description, and

I said he was hard to see.

‘Just give the colour of hair and eyes

So that we can put on a trace.’

‘He’s always changing, he lives in lies,

He’s the Man with Another Face!’

 

I saw the look that he gave the man

Who was slinking down in the hall,

I knew that I’d never be free of him

Surrounding me, wall to wall.

They put me here in a padded cell

Where at least I’m on my own,

But I still feel ill when he opens the grill

And his eyes burn through to the bone.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

there was a song back in the 80's by Maxwell called "Somebody's watching me" - I'm singing it now. I've felt this way sometimes - that people are watching, listening....I would guess we all go through a bit of this insanity. We just don't have your amazing gift of turning it into a poem

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Paranoia can really drive a man over the edge, as it appears is the case with the main character in this wonderfully told story. It must be maddening to live inside your head and feel this way.

[minisla]

As I was reading I thought you were referring to your shadow. Slight touch of schizophrenia.

[Ravyne Hawke]

This one is a chiller! I've had a doppelganger before.. they are no fun at all. But I am not sure if that is what this one is, or perhaps his shadow has taken a life of its own. Wonderful job, David.

[Mehak Mushtaq]

I love it, the way you narrate an entire story in a poem and that too a thriller. Amazing work sir.

[Brandon S. Whitten]

Splendid read and write...reminded me of A Beautiful Mind.

[Onku Ghosh]

THis other person seems like your alter-ego......YOu find him wherever you go Thinking you are insane the authorities have locked you in a cell and sure enough he is there too.
Very interesting write.

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Such a great twist from reality to paranoia! Another great story, David!

[Lena M. P.]

That brush with insanity. I really like how this one popped along, with almost a sing-song feel which goes well with the subject matter of paranoia. The battle they face; the ping-pong effect of the spots of sanity mixed with the times of cloudiness. Very well played.

[Carolann Dowsett]

Wow creepy but in a really good way. I love this its a bit like a thriller poem.