Day Three – I’m Always Nervous at Customs

Red light. Green light. Green light. Red.
There’s nothing here to see officer
Nothing at all.
I have no gun, no drugs, no pets
There’s nothing I’m carrying from someone I’ve met
Nothing at all.
Do I look like someone who would?
Maybe I look like someone who would.
I do declare, there’s nothing here
Nothing at all.
Glasses on? Glasses off?  Should I remove my hat?
My bag I packed and kept secure,
Yet the drug sniffing dog still lingers near
And his gun toting friend gives me a sneer
Nothing here at all.
Passport passes in unsteady hands
The picture is bad.  Does it even look like me?
My voice catches, I cough and stall
What am I bringing back with me?
I look away, look back, and look away again
Nothing, officer, nothing at all.
Red light. Green light. Green light. Go.

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