Poem # 5

An old woman

with all of her jewelry on

sitting at a bar stool,

waiting for her beloved

to return.

 

A polished man

in a suit and tie

standing on wallstreet,

hailing a cab

to slow down.

 

A young child

chasing a red ball

that ran out into the street,

hoping

to retrieve it.

 

All different people,

shapes and sizes,

yet all their troubles

remain

the same.

Author's Note

This is one of my first poems, as you can tell by the title. I think I wrote this when I was 13 or 14. I shared it with one of my teachers at the time, like I did the rest of my writing, and it was her favorite.

Reviews

[Brown Bull]

I thought I'd look at another one of yours and the title of this looked interesting. At frst I thought that the little child's troubles would not be the same as the adults, but then I realized that they probably were.