How strange that a stranger should be no stranger at all.
In fact, stranger you can be closer than any friend I could call.
What’s stranger is how strange my friends would look at me
If they knew I’d estranged them just to feel free.
Do I make those friends strangers to who I think I am
Or are they strangers who I call friends who I don’t allow to see.
Is that the same or just strange coincidence
One can put themselves in the midst of a stranger mess.
There’s nothing strange about what I write, it comes from down deep.
Its still filtered for you, but strangely more for me.
December 4, 2012 at 2:21 pm
I love the idea you express here and it is one I have tried to make stories from – meeting a stranger who simply fits well! I wrote this on the subject http://serialoutlet.wordpress.com/2012/10/26/at-the-wayside-niphophar/