Sweet Rosemary Poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan

Rosemary was like a Rose
But she was little lame
By sense and brain
Yet she loved the retarded
She taught the handicapped
She did mathematical operations
With rocket speed recording her 'IQ'
But Rosemary was counted retarded
Not that the countrymen,
But her men and women at home!
She was sweetly mature,
But for her dwindling faculties
She had a heart sombre
Over the ill-fated and unlucky!
It was in an autumn
She was forced to face
The knives of the surgeons
Whose butter knife like,
Surgical tools waded through her
Grey-white brain to uplift her
To a women of recognizable might
And 'will' to meet her pursuits.
She sensed the smell of surgicals
But she failed to obey
The commands of the surgeons
To count, to talk,
And to weep and cry out last!
As surgeons summed up
Rosemary become a girl of two
Who played like a kid of two
That she continued so till her end!