The Stranger Poem by sarah frank

He speak like their music
His gentle touch makes me shiver
The Stranger he was
Coming up to me.
He smiles with a greeting
Talking is a slow time to learn
from the stranger
But the thing i didnt get was his name
was i going to see him again?
He left slowly away from me
leaving the questions in my head
The stranger i should call him
Someday i want to see him
and ask him his name.
Because he was a stranger
that knowws the meaning
to listen to others.