Poetry from Alexandria Adamo

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The strangest thing happened to me on this very strange day
I met the strangest stranger of all heading directly my way
A strange stranger no doubt, he looked odd, weird, and peculiar
As he drew himself nearer his strangeness dissolved, he seemed somewhat familiar
Recollection suddenly dawned, I had seen this stranger before
The strange stranger was recognized and was a stranger no more
Strange friends we once were so we stopped to shake hands
We greeted one another with pleasantries  as strange custom demands
What a strange rush he was in to visit a dear, dying brother,
So as strange as it sounds, we said a harried goodby to each other
It was the strangest of meetings, there is no trying to mask it, for the last time I saw this strange stranger, he lie dead in a casket