So I’ve gotten into writing poetry. (Really, really bad poetry.) But I figured I would post one I wrote on my cab ride to my hotel when I was released from the airport in London.

I was detained at Heathrow Airport.
For being honest about my intentions.
Bags locked up.
Placed in a cell.
“Fancy a sandwich, mate?”
Eight hours.
Five minutes from deportation.
My friend called.
He lied to them.
I get to go.

I was released from Heathrow Airport.
For lying about who I was.


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