I used to be a flower child,
but that was in my youth
When hatred seemed all ugly,
and it was used like an excuse
Dysfunctional in my family life,
a hallucination of my dreams
I grew up like “Leave it to Beaver”,
awkward at times it seemed
I’m left without delusion,
I know exactly where I stand
Way back behind the camera,
taking pictures of this land
I loved it back when I grew up,
we’d turn and burn all day
Sitting around with hollow smiles,
your mind would go astray
Now just waiting to get old,
I like to rest under a tree
When I’m dead some will relate,
to a long haired old hippie
Author notes
I used the word bank and used all the words
A contest entry
- enter please by thesefadingstars..
300 points, ended October 10, 2008, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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haha nice ending there. I really lyk it! it is, as mrs. random pointed out, brilliance
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HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I love it! Brilliance! Sheer Brilliance! For some reason..there are a lot of "ex" hippies that live in the Twin Cities around me! Creepy eh? One time, when I was visiting my brother in Michigan, we were at the movie theater and we were seeing one of the Pirate Movies, (two or thee I forget) and this complete Hippie (long hair, glasses, tye died from head to toe) stood up and started screaming about drugs or something...it was awkward and security had to take him out. rofl. Too funny. Great poem!
ing alone,
Mylee -
Nice job on the word bank. More importantly though, it is a great poem. Although at many times I was at odd with the hippie culture, I am older now and and so are the real hippies. I find that I have much more in common with the hippies from my youth than the flotsam that I see today.
Mike
P.S. I just re-read that comment. Haha. I sound like a grumpy old man.
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