As I was going to…

As I was going to…

St. Ive,

to see a man whose name was Steve –

Remember him?

Just like me, rather dim

and in a rhyme –

I hadn’t seen him

for quite some time.

Steve was here

Steve was there

It seems that Steve was everywhere

I followed signs

that bore his name,

And missed.

It seems, that I have

a terrible aim.

“Steve!” I did shout

But Steve was out,

and I wasn’t even outside his house,

It seems that I was somewhere else

somewhere where Steve wasn’t,

which maybe comes as no surprise.

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