Excuse Me, Sir | poetry

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Photo courtesy of cbenjasuwan / freedigitalphotos.net

Excuse me, sir,

can you tell me where I am?

I am not sure how I got here

or really where this place is;

It seems familiar,

but I don’t remember turning onto this road

or how to get back to the place from which I came.

It was pretty there.

That other place.

But now I am here and most definitely not sure I like it.

Nothing against you, sir,

this is just not what I am used to.

Well, maybe I am.

But if I have been here before,

it was a long time ago.

I have grown accustomed to another place

where things are familiar

and I have a say.

What is that you say?

I can’t go back, or not just yet?

I am sure that if I turn,

I will find my way eventually.

Excuse me, sir,

but this road is not posted one-way,

so it must lead back to that other place.

Only I am not sure how I got here.

I wouldn’t know which way to turn

to get back to that other place

where things were safe and known.

Perhaps if I become familiar with this place,

whether it is new or from the past,

I can then remember the way

to that other place

where things are more to my liking

and under my control.

Excuse me, sir, but what is that you say?

Perhaps?

You say I may have to stay here,

doomed to the path I chose

whether willingly or not.

Did I do this to myself,

through winding roads that wound up here?

Only I don’t remember

driving aimlessly or carelessly

ignoring laws of physics and society and whatever else I missed.

It is clear that I missed a turn, or a chance to turn around.

Excuse me, sir,

but before I choose whether to stay in this place,

can you first tell me where I am?

If I can understand that,

then I can find my way back.

Perhaps.

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