THE MAN WITH THE STARE

THE MAN WITH THE STARE

Still in the woods, I kept quite calm,
My eyes were looking everywhere,
Then by a tree I saw a man,
With a strange and deadly stare.

Bald headed and looking weird,
His eyes were fixed on me,
I sat there frozen on the bench,
Wondering who could he be.

Fear started creeping over me,
I didn’t feel at ease,
Then suddenly I heard a sound,
The strange man gave a sneeze.

I looked across towards the tree,
He was still watching me,
Then suddenly he evaporated,
To nowhere I could see.

So what was he, a spirit,
Or perhaps he was a ghost?
What was it about that strange man,
That frightened me the most?

Was it that he was flesh and blood,
Or came from God knows where?
I felt a presence all around,
But couldn’t find it anywhere.

I slowly rose up from the bench,
Pretending I’d seen nothing there,
I started walking towards the gate,
Without another stare.

But as I got towards the gate,
It started closing tight,
There was nobody pulling it,
So I ran with all my might.

I made it through before it slammed,
And quickly found my car,
I looked back towards those haunted woods,
But couldn’t see him from afar.

I started up the engine,
And began to pull away,
Then there he was beside me,
His face against the glass that day.

A spirit from when, a spirit from where?
I’ve really no idea,
I put my foot down on the gas,
I needed out of here.

I never went back to that park,
Though I read it was haunted there,
As long as I don’t meet again,
That ghostly man with the stare.