Staying gold

Old Poems

When we were young and everything was new,

We could do anything we wanted to do

Our spirits were golden,

Our minds were still free,

We could be anyone we wanted to be.

If we were laughed at, or if people stared,

We kept right on going, because we didn't care.

As we grow older we care what they say,

That's when we begin to pack on the clay.

Our clay is our armor; it shelters the gold,

It protects us from pain, but our spirit turns cold,

It keeps getting thicker until it swallows us whole,

Our bodies stay safe as we bury our soul.

It happens quite often without even a thought,

We try to be something, or someone we're not.

We have to decide that the armor can't stay,

We have to be strong; and take of the clay.

And if we are smart, before we're to old,

We must decide to show people our gold,

Because if you stay golden, and know who you are,

In this, or the next life, your soul will go far.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

inspired by the story of the golden Budah

View robbie's Full Portfolio
juliank24's picture

that's great. really profound. it took me a long time to realize this. i put the trust in myself, and was able to be more in touch with the gold.

Becki's picture

You really need to send this one to Shawna! This is really great, just like all the others! There are spelling mistakes, but nothing major that takes away from the flow of the poem.