Dear Someone listening in the shadows;

there you've always been,
indifferent to my fails and faults
refusing to be seen.
You've watched me spill the water from
my ever-shaking grasp,
watched it rise above my head
listened to me gasp.

Poor Little Rich Boy, is that you?
maybe Genius next-door, too?
how bout The Man - A Thousand Faces
or the Lady, laced in laces?
could it be the Meanies? ...Michael whispered about?
or even Human of Years?- Ghost of corporate doubt?

To you, listener of the Shadows,
who you are I'll never know
both Samson and myself are stuck
in 20  Years of Snow.