The Man With The Negative Charisma

You see him now and then buying pizza
He ain’t one of life’s experimenters
The man with the negative charisma
Who darkens every room he enters

Someone told me he was married once
Now he makes no impression on life
The man to whom no one responds
Who reckons he doesn’t need a wife

Naturally his colour of choice is grey
He’ll nod a “good morning” as he passes
But he’s the man with nothing to say
Who blinks behind his plastic glasses

His name in the Book of Life’s a misprint
His face on the page a careless gaffe
He’s the man who leaves only footprints
Who takes undiscovered photographs

Though you’d notice no lack of gaiety
If he vanished in holy ascension
To another world where he’s a deity
Who vibrates in the fifth dimension

Wouldn’t that be a kick in the head
If he swooshed skyward every night?
The man who flies while you’re in bed
Who dances in the yellow moonlight

by Derek Dohren


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