The Confrontation

The man walks forward, grim look on his face.
I foresee trouble staring my way,
as he pushes through the crowd, heading towards me.
His hand goes into his pocket. I feel I know him,
but I cannot place from where. He's really close now.
His arm moves, his hand clears his pocket, there's a flash of light,
could it be a knife?
As the light surges forward, I feel terror.
The pain is everywhere, my life is ending.
I know the man now I've seen him every day of my life.

by

William R. Thomas