They Call Me

Reads: 76  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 4

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem exploring the feelings of a few different people, focusing on the passage through life and seizing the day. And all right, I'll admit it, I wanted to rag on stereotypes a little, I couldn't resist (:

Submitted: November 26, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 26, 2011



Young, they call her

But she knows it isn’t true

Imagination, and all those books…

She’s been around the world

All she’s seen,

All she knows

Her eyes shine

And she knows she’ll never be like them

But sterotypes have their way

It’s a sunny day

She drifts in the swing

Pondering the sky

With all the wisdom of oceans

In her eyes

Sitting so still

She takes wing with the birds

Dirty, they call him

Everything’s dirty

He sits in a desk feeling dirty

All he does all day is….

All he does is nothing

Nothing of purpose, that is

Tired of coarse jokes

Tired of being bored

Tired of busywork

Tired of being meaningless


But he can’t go anywhere

He can’t do anything


Guesses he’ll just keep doing nothing

Maybe someday…


Elderly, they call him

Frail and at the end

Combing his white hair with shaky hands

Looking in the mirror

Who is that?

Those wrinkly eyes…

Prunes and bingo


Where did he go?

He’s still here

More here than ever

Wise just in time to die

Wanting to twirl again

Climb mountains, cross oceans

Alive again

Just in time to die

But those wrinkly eyes

Can’t seem to hide

The life stirring inside

Life is no straight road

But is it even a curvy one?

It seems to share the spinning steps

Of the wildest waltz



Can we call it a direction?

We learn and learn

And forget what we learn

Learn again

Because we can't give up

It is today.

Startmoving forward

The choice is only yours


An uphill battle

But one that must be fought

Before disintegration

Before you crumble

Make it your own

The time is now

I want to live

With the wisdom of oceans

I want to live


I want to live

With a purpose, with direction

I want to live

On a mild fall day

© Copyright 2017 RebeccaMiller. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:






Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by RebeccaMiller

Popular Tags