Wednesday, December 3, 2008

The Wailing Wall

There's a grand old maid
Across the sea
So the story was recalled to me
And from dawn til dark, you hear her call
Down in front of the wailing wall

And she cries all day so sad and alone
til someone comes along and leads her home
Nobody listens and nobody seems to care
But everyday you'll find them there

Kneeling down
For sadness sake
Crying just as though their hearts would break
And from dawn til dark you hear them call
Down in front of the wailing wall

And they cry all day, so sad and alone
Til someone comes to lead them home
You know I don't listen, and you know I don't really care
But every day you will find me there

I am kneeling down 
just for sadness sake
Crying just as though my heart would break
And from dawn til dark you'll hear me call
Down in front of the wailing wall.



SSP said...

Love it - love the rhyming scheme - the melodic almost song-like way that is flows as you read it. it paints a vivid picture the reader can imagine...but then you bring it home by applying it to yourself...nice...

rhythm wise - it might read stronger if you said:

You know i don't listen, and you know I don't care (delete really)
But every day you'll (instead of you will) find me there

there are a couple of other places where a contraction might make it read smoother, but that may not be your intention. My suggestions are just from my perspective...ignore as you see fit :-) thanks for sharing! Did you ever read mine called Slow Burn - it was a while ago...still my favorite piece...and I rework it still...can't seem to let it alone

Charmaine said...

I agree with what SSP just said.

Okay, I confess, I have no idea what she just said. hee hee.

In the poem I basically thought you were just talking about me.

I started memorizing Shakespeares sonnets because I thought they were about me too.

I think it's ok to be self-absorbed as long as your funny about it. :-)

Charmaine said...

I remember visiting the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.

Somehow I got turned around and began walking down a street where Westerners (especially women) were not welcome. Male Hassidic Jews shot daggers into my eyes. I did not understand until advised later by my trusted guide Carol, who was a man and trusted father figure.

I snapped a couple of SPECTACULAR photos revealing the contemptuous glances I recieved. Sadly, I cannot locate a single one.