The temp job

To stand, in the shoes of another man 
Wearing another man's cloths, walking into his shadow 
Like stepping into the cave, of another man's hide 


I sense an energy, that surrounds, a presence of sort 
Sometimes cold, sometimes warm 
All depending on, the character that once stood 


Perfectly moulded, made immobile to fit an absent vessel 
Like a ship yard still with scaffolding hold 
From ships, that had long been launched 


And this is me in proximity, stepping into another man's environ 
Do I adopt a character, like him from old, that was before 
Like a possessed haunt, to fit into roles, expected to play 


As on bids to be accepted 
Fool the locals, so not to think, to fright, not to worry  
Fear, retribution, for there has been a change of old 


Wearing name badges, how long before comparison of
And expectation to conform would last on demand  
Before legitimacy would be approved 


I would have been long gone 
Before it becomes known by the locals 
That someone else, walked in these here shoes