Mistaken by L. M. Montes

I strolled along in the park one day
enjoying a floral scene,
until a tap on my shoulder I felt
compelled me to turn around,
it was a man with reddened face
who hurled words with daggered grace,
I turned do leave but hit the ground
when me he tripped and there he dwelt,
“Sir, why do you have to be so mean,
I am not the person whose name you say.”