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Waiting
by Sam RobertsPermanent like Siamese twins,
her and her words.
Her little memories, her stash of failings
kept locked away in her head.
She is lonely, lonely with her words,
And while touching the surface of death,
her blood and her ink unite onto the page
Coiled around her own manifestation and desperate to be known
Waiting to be heard.
A genius will never be known unless the deed of death has been successful,
until her words are detached from her head.
So until that day of her exposure, the day of her death
we wait for her recognition,
that she will never be aware of.
We never know when were going to die, but you must help me get them out if I do, promise?
Sheltered for now away from the publics view, her only admittance of her brilliance was to herself
And one other, her third narrative
A simple question to her split personality
She didnt laugh, nor did she whisper her failure
For once they saw eye to eye
And finally she spoke.
'I promise' 03/29/2003 Author's Note: About a close friend of mine
Stay beautiful x
Posted on 03/29/2003
Copyright © 2025 Sam Roberts
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 04/01/03 at 07:06 PM WOW...I'm speachless! Just WOW!! |
| Posted by Thomas K. Hunt on 04/02/03 at 11:44 PM Wow! what can I say...beautiful imagery of ones inner self...brilliant |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 03/20/13 at 05:42 PM Very touching. I have a dear friend with multiple personalities. I've been writing a poem for a couple of days now... but I don't think I can actually post it. You are braver than I. |
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