Permission Not Required But Appreciated (a poem!)

A man asked me to spare a cigarette and called me “sir.”

When I obliged and turned my head to say so, he apologized.

“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am!”

I shook my head and shrugged,

“No, you were right the first time, but it’s okay.” I handed him a cigarette and offered him a light.

“Hey,” he told me, looking in my eyes, accepting my offering,

“You have the right to be who you want to be.”

I thanked him and walked towards Jackhammer

Full of gratitude because even though I don’t need it

It felt nice to get permission to be myself.