The Shadow Walker

I wrote this poem when I lived in Germany back in the 90s.  At the time, I lived in Lobeda, a rather horrid concrete village, that the former Communist regime felt was "good enough" for people.

During our time there, there were the odd flare of violence from some of the locals aimed at foreigners.  Well for "foreigners" read "people with different skin".  As a foreigner myself I always knew, keep my mouth shut, nod, and no-one will notice.

I was the shadow walker - the person who from the outside doesn't look alien at all ...


I look through the eyes of a foreigner
So secretly cast on your shores
To walk through your concrete labyrinth
Observing your alien law

I see you talk in your mother tongue
And note down your different ways
Watching you try hard to navigate
Society's bleak moral maze

I'm the shadowy watcher amongst you
Point me out if you think that you can
A sinister chronicler amidst you
Studying my fellow man