On The Road to Vexation.

I left home at a young age and walked everywhere,
Soon I came to a sign that appeared out of thin air.
It was quite old and read: “10 miles to Vexation.”
I was care free so I went in that direction.

After a short time I came across a wooden seat,
It was on the side of the road and out of the heat,
Some council had thoughtfully placed it there years before,
For  weary travellers like me, be they rich or poor.

I sat down and felt safe on my bench under my tree.
In the distance I could see a man coming towards me.
He was too far away to get a clear look at him.
It was just a man coming towards me, looking grim.

I started to imagine all sorts of strange ideas,
I had some trouble breathing and my eyes filled with tears,
Maybe he was a killer who had escaped prison,
And they would find me bleeding to death, shot with his gun.
He might be a sneak thief trying to steal from me.
But that would be pointless because I had no money.
He might want to convert me to his Religion.
My heart was racing and I was sweating in the Sun.
So I picked up a short stick to be on the safe side.
I thought how, very sad, if this was the place I died.

After what seemed hours he came very close to me.
He looked at me and turned away, not wanting to see,
He kept on walking by without giving the time of day.
He was just a kind old man trying to find his way.
I hung my head down and for the first time I felt poor,
I just sat there wondering  what all that worry was for.