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Dean Fraser-Phillips

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The one who lost the crown
by Dean Fraser-Phillips → (All Poetry by Dean Fraser-Phillips)
Sunday, November 8, 2020    Rated "G" by the Author.
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A poem about someone who grew old and that nobody seems to care anymore


Poem Artwork

 

My eyes stare at the memories

Of all the days gone by ,

When I carried the crown of life

A youthful butterfly

 

Many said my name

Hands were repeatedly shaken

When I strolled into the room

Photos always taken

 

Friends and people loved me

The hugs were often hearty

They claim my smile lit up a room

A pure life of the party

 

The years they passed so quickly

Hugs became so few

The lines around my eyes turned deep

Yet I am still the one you knew

 

I gaze into the mirror

What’s looking back at me?

The eyes they shine so clearly

But I can clearly see

 

The people I looked up to

Yes, that’s my mum and dad

They went away so quickly

My heart weighed down so sad

 

I lost my kin and family

Became the last one of my name

The family came less often

I guess I lost my fame

 

I gaze out of the window

Hoping they come by

I think they wear the crown now

Whilst all I do is cry

 

I don’t want the handshakes

Or the hugs that I once craved

Just a hello from those who I call family

The blood that we have shared

 

Please do not ignore me

I recognise I’m just a name

But I’ll always share a smile

Over any long-lost fame

 

So if you have a loved one ,

That you’ll “See soon again”

Read these lines out loud

And please understand my pain

 

 

 

 

 

 


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 Reviews of "The one who lost the crown"
Reviewed by Diana Legun
Reviewed on February 26, 2022
Well-chosen image, even better that it is black and white. It seems you may have written this poem for the photo itself. If not, your writing expresses a keen grasp on this thing of aging. Rich with movement, ripe with understanding, painted with compassion, the lines honoring journey from ‘youthful butterfly’ to ‘…just a name.’ ~~ djl

Reviewed on February 18, 2021
So deeply touching, brought tear to my eyes. Beautifully penned.

Reviewed by Mystic Rose
Reviewed on November 22, 2020
Ah, I do understand your feelings really well, and I'm sending you heart blessings dear poet, you write so eloquently well.

Reviewed by Ian Thorpe
Reviewed on November 14, 2020
Ageing is inexorable but I think we can keep getting old at bay. The poem made me think of my mother (92) who was lively and bright and above all curious and interested until she was well past 80 then quite quickly seemed to lose her zest for life. Now show just sits and seldom says anything, she's just a shell.
We should all try to remember and include our older friends and relatives, knowing we careabout them can only help maintain that interest in life which I'm sure keep people alive rather than just existing.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on November 11, 2020
Your poem reminds me of my 93-year-old neighbor with no children who told me that he had invited his niece to come by one weekend. When he tried to tell her about his considerable wealth that he was going to give to her, she didn't want to hear of it. And my great aunt who died at 96 in her hometown and was a cook and waitress for clubs and even a local restaurant at 93. At her funeral, only my mother and one other person attended. Both of her children had preceded her in death.

I would encourage older people, before they get too old, to reach out and interact with young people, much younger than them and help them with their lives. Avoid being alone at the end of our lives.

Ron


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