What to Make of Yourself


Once an angel sat down next to me,

In the form of a homeless man,

On a graffitied park bench and

Said to me:

“Why you’ve been an idiot.


What else are mountains for-than to climb?

And what more are sights for-than to see?

And while your blood is running through your veins-


-oh what more are mornings for than to come home

in the clearer air of the lightening sky?

and with a smile-

suuuurely I was asleep.”


He smiled proudly down at me and i nodded far too politely-


WELL you just don’t get it!”


i’m sure he could tell by my face

this was a strange thought indeed.


“would you rather wake up fifty years from now in the same haze you’re in today??

don’t deny it-

we slam down on the alarm clock everyday-

to pound its beating out of our way



for real


and then you’ll pull your eyelids out

to paint the pretty face-

that you’ll never see.”


all this talk was too much

i was used to a 5-step program

high school, college, marriage, kids, death

and where is the fun in  that?

but it is a pleasure

to befriend strangers on park benches and talk

to something you don’t know.

it is passion to greet the middle of the night as a well-known friend

and to abandon the same morning cup of coffee

for a wander through the woods

so let it ring in your hearts-

i am not dead!


now we were friends-the tattered angel and I-

he taught me-

you are not one inch more than anything

you make yourself to be.



Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741