The Guest

Once was a man who lived and played
He said hello at the start of day
People loved him very much
But were unsure, maybe he's touched
He is nice, but strange
And sometimes quite deranged
But the man looked and said, quite true
You came to me, not I to you
Perhaps I frighten or love too much
Or create too different or some such
Maybe you fear yourself and flee
Because you see yourself in me
And quite ignore that path
Turning away with a confused laugh
The man sighs and moves away
I know one day you'll also play