I seem to see this stranger almost everywhere.I do not wish to frighten you, but you should know he's there.So that if you're threatened, if evil's ever done,you'll know it's him who did it.You'll know that he's the one.His looks are ordinary, but he does things in the dark.He hides inside the shadows watching children in the park.He whispers things in subways, you tremble with alarm.I tell you he will get to you, he's out to do you harm.I've seen him in the headlines and on the evening news.I saw him on the sidelines when stones were thrown at Jews.And marching in Montgomery pretending that he cared.I saw him wink as though some old conspiracy were shed.He was in the crowd in Dallas at the close of Camelot.I spotted him on campus when the students had been shot.In an oriental village with civilians left to rot,He was hanging out with soldiers, trading heroin for pot.And he was smiling, smiling.Last night I found obscenities scrawled across my wall.I swear I can't repeat the filthy words that I recall.And then the most immoral, damned, insulting thing of all.As I read each line, I noticed his handwriting was identical to mine.