I Want to Be

I Want to Be

A Poem by Constance

I want to be a bird

         That one, there, in that tree

             The one who sings like the world

                Is new and will never be ugly again

                   The one whose wings are colored

                      As blue and vivid as the sky

                        Where he flies free

 

I want to be a cat

        That one, there, on that porch

           The one who naps and lazes as if

              The world still will not pass him by

                 The one whose eyes are as green

                  As grass, though not from envy,

                    For none are better than he

 

I want to be a house

       That one, there, on the corner

          The one standing tall after ages

             As though life has no will to crumble

               All trimmed in ornate red copices

                 As red as fresh blood on snow

                   Yet feeling no pain

 

I want to be....

         I want to be anyone but me, for I am

           The one who sits waiting as though

            Life will never happen, and I am

              Alone, and not happy to be so

               As lonesome as a mateless dove

 

I simply want to BE.

 

 

© 2008 Constance


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Reviews

I take it you wrote this when you felt a bit down... its a good read well presented... I enjoyed it.

Posted 16 Years Ago


Great poem extremely well written. each stanza is unique giving the poem a very smooth and polished finished i can tell some time was spent on this great write

Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Nice use of comparisons to explain your longing to simply LIVE your life. Very pretty description and symbolism of the different animals and the "mateless dove". =)

Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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228 Views
3 Reviews
Added on June 11, 2008
Last Updated on June 11, 2008

Author

Constance
Constance

A Small Town in, KS



About
I write about my past, my own real experiences. Even my poetry is inspired by my life. I was, I suppose, born writing, making up stories and rhymes from about when I started to speak, but had to wait .. more..

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A Poem by Constance