The Passerby

The doors weren't locked and bolted,
They weren't wide open either.
But that didn't discourage him.
He opened it a crack, and peeped in.

He chatted with a careless smile
And step by little step, walked in.
Nobody invited or welcomed him,
Before I knew it, it became his home.

He brought a suitcase in one day,
A small chair the next,
Yet he never paid any rent,
Nor did he put it down as his address.

He just stayed on and on,
Flashing a smile when required.
Never a resident, never a tenant,
Yet his things were everywhere.

Then one sunny morning he was gone.
He said not goodbye nor cancelled the lease,
For there was no lease to begin with.
But he left half his things.

No forwarding address for the clothes and slippers
The fruit lay rotting in the kitchen.
He didn't say if he'd be gone a day or more
Or if he was simply gone.

Soon a new tenant came knocking,
Unassuming, undemanding,
He offered rent and signed the deed,
And vacuumed before bringing his things

He gave the slippers and crinkled shirts to me
I suppose he thought they were mine.
I could store them in some shelf somewhere,
But i just took them out with the trash.