Tourists

Kevin Brown Poetry

​We are tourists in this strange land -

Down old worn cobble streets,

We are guided by a strange hand,

Not led on by our feet.
We are tourists in this strange land,

With our heads lost, stuck in maps,

We are guided by a strange hand,

Through our lows and our mishaps.
We are tourist in this strange land,

So lost, so out of place,

We are guided by a strange hand,

That brought us face to face.
We are tourists in this strange land,

In a city wild, unknown,

But we’re guided by a strange hand,

You and I are not alone.

Kevin Brown © 18.09.2016

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