The Bag Lady
Old with wisdom they say

A long life she lived

Wrinkles tell her story well

The crow’s feet gauge her eyes

Dull, colored grey now

Without a spark in sight.

Time is for the birds

The clock has not been kind to her.

A life of wealth or poverty stricken

Neither what the story books foretell

Banished to life alone.

Her husband, gone

He was dead and gone years ago

Overcome with death, they say

Even alive, he was still dead

His destiny had been written on his face.

I guess she expected it

And so she carried on the same

Day in and day out

Setting the timer for the corn bread

Like watching life run out of breath

Time is for the birds.

She will accompany his soon

That timer is almost ready to sound

I guess she’s expecting it

Destiny has begun to write its self on her face

Just like his.

She watched him die well before he ran out of life

And now she will carry on the same

You’d think she’d do something differently

Like take a bite of forbidden fruit

But rather than trying to live

She will simply follow suit

And live to die.

Time is for the birds.

OneVoice   OneVoice wrote
on 9/27/2008 9:13:00 PM
...bittersweet... her heart binds her to the memory of her beloved - as her life fades. She sees no beauty... has no hope... harbors no expectations save being with her beloved again. Without a care she performs her routines, the ones set in stone... habits that let her re-live those times she once shared - that's all she knows

kevinbwright   kevinbwright wrote
on 5/3/2008 1:50:26 PM
Well done, much enjoyed!! Kevin Brian Wright

searcher   searcher wrote
on 5/3/2008 2:20:26 AM
Beautifully written. I think you have caught the very essence of loneliness--"like watching life run out of breath".

Ancient117331   Ancient117331 wrote
on 5/2/2008 1:29:49 AM
Hadassah, Quite a story and the ring of truth in its echoes. Chris T.

lindsay   lindsay wrote
on 5/2/2008 1:26:10 AM
This is very good. I really liked the descriptions--very visual.

Free Verse
writing Haddassah
She Dreamed of Flying...
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Rating: 10.0/10

A poem written about the loss of dreams.
A Word from the Writer
This describes those around me who have given up on dreaming. Instead, they trudge through life with meaningless chores, living for death.