A sadder scene is seldom viewed
As a bag lady shuffling past you
But like many a wrinkled face
Lies a tale worthy in history place
Where once was Gucci or other gentry
Is plastic bags filled with mystery
A stylish walk once awash with pride
Now a laden limp she'd rather hide
An age of three score and twenty
Broken and faded dreams are plenty
The make up bag is long replaced
No cosmetics to cover her sorry face
When young and in full bloom
A look behind she always groomed
Now much older and slightly hunched
The heads still turn just as much
She was somebodys baby, daughter, and sister
She was somebodys lover, wife and mother
Now she's all alone with no other
The lonely tears still fall like water
You may ask her as she goes
If she needs some aid or dough
Be ready for the quck retort
As she says what you never thought
I'm too far gone for baby
Just call me the bag lady
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem