Old Soul

Old Soul

Who I am exactly is perplexing to say,

when the filter fabricated in your eyes is cliché.

I was fashioned in the snow and polished by the rain.

My creativity is boundless thus; the blank page is my domain.

 

Who I am, is a stowaway from afore of the millennium.

I am an old soul simply swinging on the pendulum.

It is a pendulum of the contemporary and the ancient.

The limbo of vintage and modern is my blissful enslavement.

 

Who I am, is a fusion of golden-era thespians.

Like John Wayne, a patriotic and old-fashioned pedestrian.

I am Carry Grant, strategically suave and comically skilled.

Like Katherine Hepburn, I present myself proper and strong-willed.

 

Who I am, is a passionate love song.

Hopeless romanticism is the haven to which I belong.

A motivating tremolo that initiates your start,

I am a relatable shoulder that understands your heart.

 

Copious oxymorons define me.

I am a tranquil lake and a roaring sea,

I am a quaint hum and an obnoxious drum roll.

Who I am, is a young girl with an old soul.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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