Spheres Poem by Isobel Gosper

Time slowed to perfection
In transit with time and place, she is lost
A romantic liveliness obfuscated and crumbled
A fragile soul, so delicate if a halo were to linger in its presence it may fray
Many a moon of aches
Although she may seem she has it impeccable
She lay abound, scarred with flaws, cloaked with bundles of smiles and laughter
Completely oblivious to the real world, her dull spark lingers on,
A trail of merriment and delight to the society
A casting shadow of deterioration and inadequacy on herself

Questioning the existence,
A tripping ruined beauty
Born into a sphere so bitter and dull
Visions fixed focused on the constant Incandescent ray beaming
through a small device that beholds 'the world'
Or we what we express to be everything but nothing

Affection so close yet so far,
Connectionable conversations lost
Trapped in a one-sided love
Obligated to conform to societies regulation
She struggles to persist harmoniously
Countless blitz zooming races in her head
New beginnings consciousness initiates, comprehends and thus proceeds from
Illusion's
An irritating vortex whirlpool immanent void of fake containment