I did not write this poem.
I did not sit down
With the intentions of writing
This poem.

I have never met this poem.
There was no fleeting glance,
No glimpse as it passed,
From the corner of my eye.

I did not write this poem.
I did not rack my brain
Searching for the right words for
This poem.

I have never met this poem.
I did not stumble upon it
On a busy sidewalk and say
“How do you do?”

I did not write this poem.
I did not grab pen and paper
And force ink on the page to create
This poem.

I have never met this poem.
But I would like to
Stumble upon it on a crowded street,
Glimpse as it passes out of sight, sit down
With the intention of capturing it,
Rack my brain for its words,
Put pen to paper and force it out.
Even then, I could honestly say
I did not write this poem.