The Stranger (But not by Camus)

Douglas Forsythe

I met a stranger at an Inn

But that is not how the story goes

Wandering through my mind 

I met said stranger in my home

Amongst cluttered thoughts and

Assorted ramblings

I was working on a piece to recite

For an entire contest

Yet I found it quite contrite

For I couldn’t think of a single line

Until today when 

This stranger entered my mind

Giving me things to ponder

A story about memories

And how they can lead a man

On a path through hell

Attempting to regain them

Yet this stranger struck a bell

And I must confess now

I knew him well

So I wrote about him

Our chat and rambling

Which I shall tell

You all here this evening

Yet as you can see

I already have

Told you everything

There is nothing left

But to hope

Another stranger 

Comes along

For in the end

Every story need one

To light the spark

To lower the pail

To drink from the well of ideas