The Watcher ('93)

I am The Watcher.
I have no name,
no personality,
it’s better that way,
no-one knows me.

I go unnoticed sitting in the corner.
I listen, I watch,
I think,
I see it all,
though I have no part of it.

I am The Watcher.
It’s amazing what you can see
when no-one knows you are there,
cut off,
unfeeling.

Existing, only to see the lies,
the deceptions,
the foolishness.
I know,
but I cannot speak.

I cannot tell
what I know about
the reality of unreality,
that they think
that they call life.

You must see,
you must see it for yourself.
You must see,
then you will
become like me.

You are The Watcher
and you will know.
I am The Watcher.
I watch now and always,
both the inside and the out.

Introspection,
see through my eyes,
my lack of emotion
belies my never ending journey,
a journey into self-hatred.

My journey, through them,
into their selfishness,
it grieves me, but
I must not feel it,
I must not give in to it.

For if I do,
they will see me
and I will be known,
laid bare and corrupted
by their impurity, pettiness and lies.

I am The Watcher.
I exist, though sometimes
only as a hidden whisperer,
but I must not feel,
I must isolate.

I must escape the vestiges
of my own bitter hopes,
escape all their
and all of my own,
ever mounting hate.

I am The Watcher.

I live,
Just to watch it all die.

1/12/93