Buckets

When I was younger my teacher told the class and I a story about buckets 

"These buckets are not normal buckets" my teacher explained "These buckets are filled with all the happiness and good things in the world!" I was captured by the idea that those buckets had such wonderful things in them. 

My teacher went on to say " We all have these buckets of good stuff and joy we have carefully pour some out into other peoples buckets to share that happiness" the whole class was quite happy to know that we all have a bucket of our very own but she warned us "Do not over share or youll have no good stuff for yourself, because its important to care about yourself" then she dismissed us for lunch 

My young imaginative mind took this story ran with it, I wanted to share as much happiness as I could, but when I looked down into my bucket it always seemed to be empty and broken where as my classmates buckets seemed like they were full to the brim, and had no cracks running down the side, their buckets were always in perfect shape. Even though the buckets were not real I always felt as though my bucket was just never right as if life handed me the wrong bucket 

 My bucket was more like a colander I could share my love with others but would never have any of my own to keep 

Even when others proud their happiness in my bucket it would just spill out on the floor leaving only the residue of happiness leaving the other person so angry that their happiness has fallen on the floor and leaves me sorrowful that I have only a small amount of their kindness left 

I realized many years later that the buckets were ourselves and even from a young age I knew I was broken and empty 

My bucket now is still broken and is hard to fill up, although most of my holes in my bucket have been taped and sewn up by those who felt I was wrong by not being a perfect bucket but also by others who understand that I will never be a perfect bucket but who allow me to fill them up with my happiness in return for love and trust 

My bucket and I still have a long way to go to be able to fill up and to help others fill up but my bucket has taught me that I still try and I that never will stop truging on in order to make others and myself happy 

Author's Note

Im considering making these into a spoken word film let me know

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Hello dear Lydia. Your teacher was wise. I liked how she used the buckles. We begin with filled buckets and one by one. They empty. Sort of sad. I believe we can refill the buckets with new happiness. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry. I did like this one.
Coyote

[Lydia Waldock]

Thank you! im glad you enjoyed it!

[Coyote Poetry]

I did enjoy dear Lydia and you are welcome.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

This made me think of an old parody song from many years ago called "There's A Hole In My Bucket".
I enjoyed reading this and the teacher in the piece was a wise person. It is quite sad just how many people lack self belief and confidence and look at other people and see them as perfect and balanced and happy. The truth is many put a cloth over their bucket and don't let you see what is truely in it. They hide behind masks and those who are fragile simply see themselves as alone and conspicuous.

[Lydia Waldock]

I had hole in my bucket playing while I was writing this it’s a bop. The teacher was wise for this one thing from then on she gave my bucket problems. Yes a cloth to hide all things wrong works for whole but it doesn’t keep it hidden forever

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Agreed but stay away from that 'bucket list' lol!

[Lydia Waldock]

Lol!! Definitely

[Fox]

I really liked the bucket metaphor you used in this, as for the spoken word film, I would definitely love to see this as one. I Always find something good to read whenever you post, thanks.

[Lydia Waldock]

Thank you so much!!! I think I’m going to make into a film and that means a lot to me !

[Fox]

Cool, please let me know whenever it's available to watch.