Rosemary Wilson

Rookie (8th October 1981 / New Zealand [Now in Australia])

Two-Eighteen Am - Poem by Rosemary Wilson

Under these circumstances
Which I find myself totally oblivious
To your thoughts and feelings
Totally unaware of how much/or how little
You think of me
Whether you hold me in high regards
Whether you praise/relish/ or miss me
I find myself twisted and torn
Between you and the moon
As it softly breaks the sky
And spreads light
To brighten my darkness
The moon/in-tune with my emotions
As we both hold the stars
As one explodes another begins
To beckon my realization
That we are both apart
Of this mindless civilization
As we sabotage ourselves
Over and over again
To do or die
But I find myself dying most of the time
Rather than doing/never been much of a doer
More of a thinker/stuck between the real and surreal
Discovering that most of the intellect
We aimlessly grasp
Are borrowed thoughts from others?
Noticing that yes I am alone
Although I am crowded
Feeling as though I am caught
When I am so obviously free
But I am trapped
With these vicious thoughts
That circle around in my mind
Netted by depression/sadness
And occasional madness
My thoughts/aspirations
Hopelessly wondering
If I may become close to you again
Leave me dangling in mid-air
Although I love you
With all that is true
My heart/mind/body and soul
I am left debating
Whether love is enough
In this unusual materialistic world
Where nothing is ever simple
Where everyone has seemed
To have inherited the genes of sloth
To let time slip us by
As we age/alone without each other
But amidst all the crazy and shallow things
Lays the fact that yes
These tears are real
And yes
I do feel as though
You are the light/that keeps me shining
On dark and cold lonely nights
And yes I am scared
That one day
I will drown amongst
These tears of love I shed
And that yes
I will wait
Although as each days goes past
And grows into a month/then a year
Seems hopeless
My candle is still lit
And burns brightly for your return
I must admit to you
I do feel as though
I am caged in the iron clasp
Of your love
I feel poisoned and deserted
Alone/and somewhat pointless
And although I am bogged down
With this mindless drivel
And what seems like an eternity
I still have the courage
To find you
Amazingly/Beautiful
Oh how lucky you are!


Comments about Two-Eighteen Am by Rosemary Wilson

  • Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr (6/12/2006 10:47:00 PM)

    ROSEMARY...WAS DRAWN TO THE TITLE OF THIS WORK AS I THOUGHT IT MAY HAVE BEEN DEDICATED TO ME...(IM ALWAYS UP WRITING AT 2: 18AM)
    (LOL) ...NICE PIECE OF CRAFTSMANSHIP, ROSEMARY...STELLAR USE OF IMAGERY...WELL STRUCTURED IN RHYTHM....SOLID WORK...''''''''''''''''FRANK
    (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, June 5, 2006



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