A stranger?

Sometimes it feels like it.

Especially when he's being a pain and stromping about refusing to co-operate.

Or maybe that's when he's most familiar?

One day he may become one, I do hope not.

Some day he may take his fuzzy surf bum curls off and charm some unsuspecting one.

Should I pity that person, or be pleased for them. Should I warn them!

Whoever they are, they will no longer be a stranger.

As strange as him, yes.

But not a stranger.