RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Curving around the isolation of my being,
gives me an idea to say how I feel in writing.
Taking extra time to become what I need to be
as I fall asleep in the interim.
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Strengthening life impulses is difficult
when you're on the edge of life ready to
fall in and finalize all that was once a
human being.
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Sitting back, listening to another song of heartaches, making them easier to bear at times.
All the tears are mixed in the rhythm, blending suffering with another, knowing that trials of sadness are felt and I'm not alone in this particular situation.
Hopefully, I can get through the darkness and come out in a tunnel of light, bringing faith to bear and helping me to continue and persist in life.
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Shaking up many pre-conceived ideas as they fall before me, showing the truth as it is stated without any prejudice surrounding it.
Taking life with itself and sharing it with whomever will embrace it.
Closely entering suites of yesterday, brings it forward into any form of prose.
As it enters and flows from within, never looking or searching for words, because they all flow out comfortably without any pressure.
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Recording special moments in life, researching where they are contained and choosing to select topics of reprieve.
Crumbling and falling, minds reel away from normalcy, scratching their ways to finding beautiful, attractive perceptions.
Bringing them carefully into intuition with fantastic issues of belief.
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Stretching through a tunnel to liven up days caught alone with no way to combine participation with anyone else in town.
Cresting, falling back and forth, adjusting sentiments to fit whatever music happens to dance into beings of sustenance.
Tolling on edges, hoping to become part of an etude on a cold winter evening.
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Just following smart answers doesn't mean you can become a genius, it takes many years to become a particle of life that excellent.
Also, taking into account, people who know they don't know everything, as they keep learning to find out when they can be found a genius.
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Juggling thoughts in mind, finding that many are too morose, and need to be enlivened beyond measures of depression before ending up in a pool of tears that can't be gotten rid of.
Soaking thoughtfully, wondering how much longer this can go on, deciding to energize and continue on another road left from yesterday's destiny.
Taking care to always send this part on it's way.
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Prancing down alleys of greatness, hooking up with equal talents, awaiting similar partners.
Forgiving each ability fallen to the sides of roads, turning inside out and rising above higher education with little effort and a lot of musical talent.
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Silhouettes of yesterday find their way into pathways, waking up other shadows, to traipse into wayside endeavors.
Pleasing no one else, walking toward haphazard rhythms, chasing them into darkened corners to await further instruction.
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