The Little Old LadyA Poem by rfor picture this poety. about a bedridden old lady who interprets peoples livees from her bedroom windowI live in my apartment, Spoon-fed, sponge bathed, and bed-panned. This window is my only glimpse at real life. And from what I see I can, Watch little Billy next door grow up. Watch young love in full bloom. See a world so lost, lonely, and cold, And I don’t even leave my room. The ocean you see isn’t as interesting As watching the lonely people and interpreting their lives You can tell a lot about a person just by looking at them It’s so sad, I often cry. I once walked those streets not seeing a thing about other people But now that I sit here in my room, it’s crystal clear These forlorn estranged dying people Are worse off than me I have it easy. I sit in a bed and have everything handed to me Those people out there work all day And barely have enough to eat. See little Annie over there? She’s 23. Her boyfriend beats her. Then he screws every chick he sees, But she still stays with him. She works two minimum wage jobs. She does drugs to calm her demons. She doesn’t know where she’ll live tomorrow, But I just stay here in my bed. I heard it from her mom but I can see it in her eyes. There’s an eminent sadness. Her face always wears a frown She wears long shirts and pants to cover the bruises. I think it’s unfair. They have it rough I just lie in my bed. I will stay in this empty room Until I end up dead. Think about someone’s situation before you make an assumption Pick up on the little clues about their nature. They reveal a lot about a person I can see it in you too © 2011 rReviews
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4 Reviews Added on June 10, 2011 Last Updated on June 10, 2011 |