He wondered in through the foggy falling mist
Wearing a silly grin and an attitude that couldn't be matched,
Taking control of the situation and the lives of those he touched,
Carefully becoming a part of their whole.
That isn't to say he was the same for everyone.
He has two faces I've grown familiar with:
The cheery, smiling person who everyone loves,
Always there, always helpful, full of chatter;
And the angry, violent deviant,
A haunting figure with an evil stare.
One is to be missed,
And fear comes from losing him;
The other is to be dreaded,
And there's only fear surrounding him.
They look the same,
And I swear in reality they are the same person.
How do we tell who he really is?
Is he the mask of sorrow or the one of joy?
In reality, I don't know.