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Where are you going to day.



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luna008

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ah poety, when i start writing it i cant stop. so heres one i did a little while back. its a story about a curse, and what some one will do to stop it, and the importance of noticing things you would usually pass by with out a glance. please tell me what you think!

Where are you going today?​

On the old corner of my street,
There was an old man I used to meet.
He would just sit and watch the people go by,
Watching and waiting for some one to stop and say hi.
He was a great listener to he was.
Would listen to anybody just because,
And in exchange he would ask for just one little thing,
Though he treasured it more then the crown to a king.
And that was an answer to the question he asked,

“Where are you going today, oh today?
Where are you going oh say, oh say.
Are you going to school or to your work?
Which path do you take when you come to the fork?”

I used to just pass the old man behind,
Until I saw someone give him some mind.
It turned out to be my very own friend,
Who decided to talk to him as we rounded the bend,

“Hey mister, hey mister, tell me if you can,
Why do you sit here all day old man?”

The old man got a strange smile on his lips,
And what he said next made my hair stand on its tips.

“I am a cursed old man you see,
And I long for nothing more then to be free.
How I came to be cursed is easy to tell,
For it all came to pass after I stole Her fine bell.
She didn’t like that as you can imagine young man,
And as payment to her I must collect as many passerby’s stories as I can.
To make my job worse she bound my soul to this bench,
So now I must stay here cursing that wench.
Now if you could,
Tell me your stories if you would.”

We told our destinations then went on our way,
Leaving the old man at the bench to stay.
My friend just laughed and went on his path,
But I saw something in the old man he didn’t quite get.
I saw the cold hard look in his eyes,
And knew he told the truth about where his soul lies.
I was captivated by him from that moment forth,
And began to wonder what was that old mans worth
So the next day I took up a spot,
Near the old corner in a empty lot,
And began to watch the old man from there,
Of my presence, I didn’t think he was aware.
Until from his spot he waved to me,
And I knew without a doubt that it was me he did see.
So I joined him on the other side of his seat,
Knowing full well that at this spying game he had me beat.
So we sat there together, not saying a word,
Until finally I grew very bored.

“Mister, if you would be so kind,
I have a question for you if you don’t mind.”

“What is it my dear,
Tell me and I will try to make it all clear.”

“If you give her stories for your crime to mend,
Why do you always just ask for their end?
Don’t you also need the beginning of the tale
To make the story complete and well?”

The old man gave a look though it was trying to go through me,
As if, there inside me, he was trying to see.
Then with a sigh, he just shook his head,
And in a tired voice said,

“I do want the whole story, don’t get me wrong,
For the feeling to break the curse is still very strong.
But I have learned that people don’t like me prying,
So they ignore me, leaving me on the verge of crying.
So I just ask for the stories end,
And I try to my best to make up where they begin.
But alas, I lack the memory and the skill to make,
A well enough story that the lady will take.”

I’m not quite sure what possessed me right then,
But in my head an ideal seem to begin.
So I got up from where I sat,
Knowing that if I was going to do this I had to do it stat.

“Mister, since you have been so kind,
I will now do my best to try to help you out of your bind.
My name is Bella and a dancer I be,
People come from all over just to see me.
I was born way out west,
And out of all the dancers there, I was the best-”

So I told him the story and tried to dance to,
Wandering all the while if this story would do.
After a while my tale was done,
A step closer to the old man’s freedom I hope I had won.
The old man’s eyes, softer they seemed,
And he looked at me with a smile that beamed.

“Thank you for the story dear child,
Its meaning to me isn’t so mild.”

With out another word I left him right there,
To continue on with the task I decided to bear.
So I took the story home and put it in a book,
That way I could remember it with a single look.
My plan was to become a new person everyday,
Each with a unique story for the old man to say.
I did this for little over a year,
In that time I became a farmer, a solider, a lover so dear,
And many more roles I became,
Until my stories started to become the same.
So I took the books that held all the people I had been,
And prayed that the curse was no match for my pen.
He hadn’t changed at all since I had began,
Maybe it was the curse that kept him the same old man.
When he saw me coming, he gave me a wave,
For he learned long ago that a path to his freedom I was trying to pave.


“Hello good stranger, what story have you today?
Are you from nearby, or from far away?”


“This is the last story I have to give you.
It’s simple, its honest, and completely true.
It’s about a young who walked this street,
And the old man she would meet.
He told the girl of his curse,
A fate that made death seem no worse.
So the girl decided to help him as best as she could,
By doing the only thing she could and would.
Each day she thought of a new person to be,
Until the day came to tell the story of ‘me’.
I have lived my life here and never went away,
But life’s of people I chronicled each day.
Those people I wrote about for that day I became,
For your curse I wanted to tame.
So I have for you here,
Some books that you may find dear.
For they hold all the stories,
That’ll get rid of all your worries.”

As I handed him them all book by book,
On his face did he get a sad look.
The ice in his eyes started to melt,
But I know with those tears happiness was all he felt.
Then for the first time, I saw him stand,
And without another word he off for his freedom to demand.
I waited for him to come back for days on end,
But never did I see him as I rounded the bend.
But one day as I was walking by
At the old man’s bench came the voice of a young guy,

“Where are you going today, oh today,
Where are you going oh say, oh say.
Are you going to school or to your work,
Which path do you take when you come to the fork?”

I immediately stopped and turned back,
And there was the man old age he did lack.
I knew it was him for were and how he sat,
And who other then him would ask a question like that?
His age looked close to mine,
Though the years since I had last seen him had added up to nine.
I had grown into an adult since then,
No longer a little girl but a women.
But I had not forgotten what I had did for his sake,
So the seat beside him I did take.
I just sat there, silent and meek,
Making him the first one to speak.


“Hello there, you remind me of an old friend,
Whose help long ago she did lend.
There’s a story for you I would like to tell,
Like any other story it started off well.
As a kid I was wild and crazy and reckless to,
Making others life’s miserable is what I loved to do.
One day I saw something that caught my eye,
The bell that the lady was holding as she walked by.
There were rumors about the lady you see,
Rumors that she once turned a man into a tree.
But all of that I did not believe,
And thoughts of getting that bell would not leave.
She caught me while I tried to steal it though I tried my best,
And, well, I think you know the rest.
I thought I would be stuck here forever,
The thought of someone helping me crossed my mind never.
But you did and now I’m free,
And I’ve been turned back to the regular me!
Soon after the curses end I went out,
To explore the world around and about.
But often I thought of you since we last met,
Something to thank you with I wanted to get.
But the only thing I have to offer you
Is the chance to come along on an adventure or two.”

I thought it over for awhile,
Then I said with a smile.

“You might convince me to join you on your way,
But only if you tell me where you are going to day”.

im sorry if this is to long, i didnt have any way to seperate it...
 
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This is such a cool little story! I like the concept and the characters a lot! Excellent work!

There were some typos, and sometimes it felt like a word was chosen for rhyme instead of clarity. I don't think it had rhythm, but I'm not very sure. And not all the rhymes rhymed, so to speak.

But those are relatively small issues. Overall, I loved it!
 

luna008

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some of them that dont have rythme are called slant rythmes....i think, but thanks!it was supposed to be more of a story then a poem anyways so if you got the story then thats all i cared about!XD
 

luna008

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no no!i didnt take that as an insult!whenever i go over certain parts i feel that way to. oh, and what are the typos, i cant see the mistakes in my own work sometime!XD
 

Gram

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0,0 been here many times over the years...and yet i've liked this best....
 

theirlosthearts

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Wow. . .I'm utterly amazed. I was only supposed to check something on the net for a minute. Then I started reading and I couldn't stop. This is really, really good. I've only occasionally dabbled in the world of poetry, but this is well beyond anything I've ever read before. To me, this is as good as the stuff that poets who make a living off of poetry write. I don't really know how to say how good this is. Do you mind if I save this on my computer?
 

luna008

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...are you for real? i dont know weather to be utterly amaze, question my computer that your message is real, or cry!of course you can save it on your computer!i would be really super honored if you do that!!!!TvT
 
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