The Illegal Man

Twenty past ten at night
leaving Parkway for home
as souls swarmed to the doors.

Barely made it up the bus
then it screeches to a halt
at the very next stop.

Up comes a songkok man
white clothes, white hat,
dark brown skin.

Sneaked in from the back
and didn't tap his card
among three, only he wasn't caught.

So he stood there beside me
muttering to himself
occasionally making hissisng sound

Kept my wallet, held my card
continued messaging
to ease anxiety

Felt his eyes on me sometimes
look up, he wasn't anymore
making my sense perk up.

Gentle were his features
like a nurturing father
tripling the fear within

Worse off it all,
we alighted together
but a relief he turned away.