he appears in my life
a time ago

he just wanna tell
someone his life
like a biography

no reason for
not to betray him
or I don’t know

but I wrote down
what he told
+ what I thought

his eyes
wearing glasses
dark as the night

when you see him
on the street
you never remember

he doesn’t look specific
just like a man
on the street

by any means necessary
he’s doing his jobs
without feelings

no one
could run away
from him

in the moment
you regard him
you gonna hear this «pft!»
and you die

nothing spectacular
nothing you remind later
when he kills
someone is past

and now
he knows me
like I knows him