The Stalker (A Poem)

I entered the world of writing as a poet more than anything else.  Poetry is my favorite type of writing and as I was trying to come up with a creative way to tell a story that happened to me a couple days ago, I finally decided to just go back to my roots and write this quirky little poem.

I heard you talking on the phone so droll

As I was walking through the store.

You whined that your job had taken its toll

And just couldn’t do it anymore.

 

You spoke of how your hours were long,

You spoke of many things.

Your life resembled a bad country song

And the foul taste in the mouth it brings.

 

I fumbled around, just out of view,

Laughing at your dismay.

You never knew I was there, ‘tis true

So you kept talking about your day.

 

Finally, as I gave up my crusade

And went to the check-out line,

You called to an end your long tirade

And placed your stuff on the belt behind mine.

 

Small talk commenced as we stood enduring

While the lady in front wrote her check.

It was at this time, I found you alluring

And remembered that I looked like a wreck.

 

“Fire rescue” your t-shirt boldly declared

And I instantly was filled with guilt.

How could I laugh at someone so prepared

And not to mention fantastically built!

 

It was now my turn to pay for my loot

And I handed the lady my bills.

I walked out the door, trying to be astute

It was time to head for the hills.

 

As I was driving home I took a quick glance

To see a dark car in my mirror.

He flashed his lights for me to give him a chance;

Pull over and let him draw nearer.

 

I was nervous by now, to say the least

But I pulled over upon his insistence.

As the man stepped out, my fear increased

It was you, dear fireman in all your existence.

 

A million thoughts racing through my head

Why had you followed me so?

Were you a stalker, and had I been misled?

If you captured me would you let me go?

 

As you came closer, I could vaguely see

Something shiny held tight in your hand.

I held my breath, and prepared my plea

I wouldn’t go down without a stand.

 

I just knew that you had accomplished your goal

Of wooing a girl like me.

To trap her like a malignant troll

And toss her to the sea.

 

“Excuse me miss,” you called with thought

As I shuddered away from the door.

You held up a bag of things I had bought,

“You left this at the store!”

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