He Watches Me
He watches me, and the steps I take.
With eyeglasses on, his head unmoving,
and his otherworldly, quiet, expressionless face,
looking intently without judgement or grace,
he watches me, and the steps I take.
He watches me, and the choices I make.
Seated on a chair, a pen in his hand,
he writes and then pauses and then scribbles again,
his eyes never moving or leaving me when
he watches me, and the choices I make.
He watches me, and the promises I break.
Silently, he folds a piece of paper and,
opening a drawer, places it within.
His eyes are unblinking and perfectly thin.
He watches me, and the promises I break.
