While I walking
I saw and picked up
An odd little papery scrap,
Others stood talking
And I carried on
Unknowingly falling into its trap.
I got home and took it out, but to my dismay, it was addressed to some other guy.
For it was a letter that had found its way, to my kitchen, to my house, to my life.
I searched day in and out for this man,
But nobody knew where his address.
He had no phone number, nor cell phone or van
So I kept it for now, I confess.
But I kept on looking, and asking around, but for some reason everyone laughed
When I read the name of the man out loud, people eyed me as though I was daft.
The letter addressed to “Rand M. Stranjer,”
Eventually I got the joke.
Though I googled him again I admit,
To see if he was a real bloke.
I slit the odd letter, and took its contents,
“Good thing this is all over,” I thanked.
And my reward for my work those frightful events,
A letter that was fully blank.