THE TRAMP
Look at that scruffy old tramp
I heard some children say.
As they rushed on by without stopping;
So keen to be on their way.
And if YOU looked, what would you notice?
About the old chap sitting there?
His clothes? His age? or his bearing?
You'ld see him, but would you care.
His clothes LOOK old and tatty.
Nothing would seem to match.
But if you looked a little closer;
It was clean and needed no patch.
To the youngsters he seemed so ancient.
You might say seventy or more.
But I know that he was much younger.
Just 50 (and perhaps a little bit more)
You might think that he looked weary;
Worn out by life's ebbing tide.
But I know he'd just stopped for a breather;
After a jaunty ten mile stride.
To the youths that had swept on past him
He was a sad and lonely old guy.
But reader you know different
For the tatty old man was I!
So what some may see as one thing
May so easily be another.
Try to remember the old adage.
And don't judge a book by it's cover!!
Author notes
It happened. (I was sat in a memorial garden near the centre of Waterford, Eire) I wrote this that night.
Written August 12th, 2002
In a list
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Comments
1 - 16 of 16
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Oh, how I liked this one ...
your poem flowed along with the intended message hitting me right away and yet, the next-to-last verse twist (that it was you) was well-placed. I was attracted to the title because of having read a book called "The Art of Tramping" which is really about 'walking'. Nicely shared. joy
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This was one of those rare moments that Burns asked for in his poem "To a Louse"
oh wad some power the giftie gie us to see ourselves as other see us.
When I realised the girls comments were about myself as I sat in that little memorial park in Ireland it was a shock.
BUT I still "tramp around" and I still dress for comfort and not for looks
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Your welcome I took part of it out...Have a good day Jim.
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Thanks for your comment.
Jim S -
You wrote this very well I am sorry this happened to you. I think sometimes it is easy as humans to think something by how we feel or the way things look around us....But as you said not to judge a book by its cover. How we feel or something may look may not always be the reality to the situation. That is a needed great reminder for us all and lesson. Sherry
Edited on Jan 03, 1:57 p.m. because ''. -
Thank you Amy. You know what they say. Many a true word is spoken in jest. That was a 100% true story.
Jim S -
Amazing story. the conclusion was rather unexpected. But and excelent ending "For the tatty old man was I!" really comes as a sort of shock, a realisation. This is a beautiful heart warming poem with a good flow and rhythm all the best! good luck in the contest *applauds*
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this is an awsome story i could never ryhme that way..in fact i do not ryhme that often...infact i am not even sure if i am spelling it write..i am??? wellz anyways i loved it..lots of love and lots of luck in the contest................always and forever
-theartzgrl~*~
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Great little story
I see you DO like your ryhme and you've done this one really well. It's one thing ryhming but having a story along with it makes it all the better
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This is splendid! I am an actor. In one play in particular, I had to play a homeless women who lived in a refrigerator box. To give respect to the character, I dressed like a bag-lady, (in the constume provided by the theatre)in an old tattered coat with antique buttons all over it, very distressed, chalked my face with black soot, and set out with a Styrofoam cup, to roam downtown with the homeless. I met some wnderful people, some who were living in the streets out of choice, some not. To make a long story short, I learned well the old adage; "never judge a book by it's cover". That play happened in 1989. Thank you for causing me to remeber this wonderful reality experience in my career. By the way, I earned over $40.00 in that cup that day, in coins. I had to empty it about five or six times into my coat pocket. Not bad for a days work! LOL Great musing here, very real to me.
Much Love,
Renee
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Thank you for your comment Emerald13.
Jim S -
Thank you for the comment. I bet the scrufiest were us bachelors too. To me clothes are to keep me warm (and stop me getting locked up. Anything else is irrelevant (except price).
That's why I'm sometimes called the tightest tyke.
Jim S -
You know when I was a teenager at work, all the male teachers seemed scruffy to us. I can remember us having a contest each week, to say who the scruffiest. Anyone over the age of 20 looked ancient too....Sorry, that just reminded me of my schools days.
Just goes to show you that looks are deceiving and its whats inside that matters, something that perhaps should be taught more at school eh? A rather melancholy write, but the picture of that man lingers.. -
a fabulous message we are apt to forget and harder still to unlearn society's teaching .... nicely resolved, effortless rhyming ... well done >>> EM
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This was very different... I really like the way this flowed, and the stanzas are nice and short and clear. Great work, and thanks for commenting on my poem!
Ellen
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Tnx for the comment on my poem 'Losing You'.
Great poem i love the messege you conveyd. Reach for the stars and never stop writing!
**Shanna**
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