She roams the streets
She has no flowers
She has no flowers
To give strangers who walk away
After bribing their guilt
by giving her a dollar
by giving her a dollar
She'd like to love the one she's with
But she's alone
Nobody loves her
Nobody loves her
The way friends used to
In communes sharing drugs, sex,
Dreams that nurtured imaginings of peace
Are they all dead?
Are they all dead?
The old hippie tries to sing protest songs
But people yell, "BE QUIET!"
Confused, she searches for Woodstock
But sees no psychedelic colors to guide her
Silently, courageously she devises plans
For solitary revolution
Such a sad sight whatever the reason someone is homeless....but I did like your musings about this sad soul.
ReplyDeleteHow very sad to be alone after a life of community. Desserstion . Disillusion. Drug abuse. Whatever the reasons. This is a very sad way to end up, and your poem tugs at the heart
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by my Sunday Standard today Myrna
Much love...
This poem is heavy with loneliness...
ReplyDeleteMyrna, I love this. There is a part of me that identifies with this old hippie, looking for Woodstock, lol. I have retreated to solitude, so I relate to her dreams of a solitary revolution. A VERY cool poem!
ReplyDeleteThis is sad... what happens to all the dreams and hopes to change the world...
ReplyDeleteHeartbreaking, and all too common.
ReplyDeleteA haunting portrait - powerfully rendered. In certain parts of the town I live in, you cannot walk a block without passing at least one of these poor souls. I often find myself wondering, what twists and turns, in life, brought them so low ... for, surely, there must have been a time, when (they believed) they were not heading in the direction of the place where they've ended up.
ReplyDeleteHow difficult a life this is...more so because of lack of family and friends..with just memories for company.
ReplyDeleteOh, this is so sad! And beautifully written
ReplyDeleteSuch a poignant piece - although I am lifted by her plans
ReplyDeleteToo sad.I am filled with shame that I live in such a cruel world.
ReplyDeleteNone of us are what we once were...though no one should be homeless. Heart breaking.
ReplyDeleteOh gosh this is heartbreaking :(
ReplyDeleteThis is indeed very sad.
ReplyDeleteSilently, courageously she devises plans
ReplyDeleteFor solitary revolution
Followers in the game of 'protest songs' would just fade out as it was just escapism they indulged in! These flower children would grow out of it!
Hank
Oh I hope she brings on a revolution! We really need one. Where are the hippies when one needs them?
ReplyDeleteMyrna, this is so beautifully written. I wish I could come up with a better word than the initial "Wow!" but that's how your writing always hits me. (Sorry I've been AWOL....can't seem to catch up with life.)
ReplyDeleteso touching and sublime poem dear Myma!
ReplyDeletei almost replaced that old lady in my imagination and life was differently beautiful because it was my own choice