Stop
He stopped me on the highway without any fear
Pulled out his lights and writing gear
"Hello Officer," my gentle eyes say
Questions rattle off the tip of his tongue
For I fit the description of someone on the run
He pulls out his gun
When he calls for a "little" backup
My heart stops
Time quickly drifts by
But when they get there
He could only sigh
Sorry, sir, you have the wrong guy
A smile hangs my face
I can't help but think it is my race
When they apologize, I peeled out and said goodbye!
About the Creator
Aayan Muhammad
Screenwriter, producer, author,poet, independent filmmaker and Army Veteran. Can be reached on telegram @aayanmuhammad78
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