Numbered

TheiaTheia Posts: 145
edited November 2015 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Numbers, numbers, everywhere I look
On every paper, in every book
In my wallet, on my phone
The bathroom scale, on everything I own

The clock that sits on the bedside table
The remote control and the guide for cable
They're on my clothing and my shoes
Numbers on my bottles of booze

On my keyboard, the inside of my ring
On the sheets of music of the songs that we sing
Numbers that I see as I drive down the street
Containers and packages of everything I eat

We number the criminals behind the bars
We number our guns and even some wars
We count up the dead in every disaster
And tally the dollars in aid given after

I see them at home, at work and at the store
I’m not surprised, I know what they’re for
Numbers are a very “peopley” thing to do
They make us organized and keep track of you

What if time didn't matter in number form?
And we didn't label the strength of every storm
Can I track my age without a year?
When I’m driving will I know my destination is near?

How would history and science survive?
Counting down to midnight or what round to take a dive
And where would Dora and Sesame Street be?
The Count would be back to drinking blood, probably

It’s not that I hate them; but I puzzle what it would be like
If we didn't have the need to track every moment in our life
It’s hard to imagine a world without numbers
My favorite is the number five, but why? It makes me wonder…..
Post edited by Theia on

Comments

  • TalonTeddTalonTedd Posts: 835
    I like your poem.....count my claps
    or the number of times I pat your back
    I tabulated the stanzas', eight is the sum
    a symbol of infinity, numbers never ending run.

    I remember when, yeah. I swore I knew everything, oh yeah.
  • TheiaTheia Posts: 145
    TalonTedd said:

    I like your poem.....count my claps
    or the number of times I pat your back
    I tabulated the stanzas', eight is the sum
    a symbol of infinity, numbers never ending run.

    :)
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