Old Woman Views

A poetic statement of sorts [26 April 2025]

I’m just an old woman who lives with no shoes,

who carries too many stories and far too many views.

I work and I whittle my words best I can,

but even the best sometimes need a hand.

My ‘hand’ comes in forms, vast, wide, and free —

I’m not afraid to use tools that make sense for me.

“Why?” you may ask from your own point of view.

“Simply,” I say, “so I may share what I do.”

What I do isn’t magic, but it comes from my heart —

from my thoughts to my hands, my own form of art.

If I look up a word in a thesaurus or online,

how in the world could that be a crime?

If I ask for an image — lord knows I can’t draw —

why should I be chastised, as if I were flawed?

Whether thesaurus, spell-check, or some GPT,

no matter the aide, my words come from me.

No one — not you, not tech, not time —

can replace what is me,

with all due respect,

and in rhyme.

I write… therefore I am.

I thought you should know:

I am.

And my words are me.