Stranger !!!!!!

There is someone on my gate, 

He may be real or kind,

But he does not talk my talk--

I cannot sense his mind.

I see the grimace and the looks,

and the mouth, But not the soul behind.

The men of my own pedigree,

They may do poorly or well,

But they tell the lies I am wanted to,

They are used to the lies I tell;

And we do not need advocators

When we go to buy or sell.

There is someone on my gate,

He may be evil or good,

But I cannot tell what powers command-

What reasons exponents his mood;

Nor when the Gods of his far-off land

Shall reclaim his blood.

The men of my own pedigree,

Bitter bad they may be,

But, at least, they hear the things I hear,

And fancy the things I fancy;

And whatever I think of them and their likes

They think of the likes of me.