Oh wait {the bane of dreamers}

Words do not contain you.

No one has ever seemed

So alive. Do

Others really understand?

No. They band

Together, for boldness,

To remind me that words

Always live, and oldness

Must needs matter. The rest

Is history. You best

Time itself. I know each

And every fact about

You. It takes strength to reach.

But it’s more than worth it.

We can take a good bit

Of time, for it matters

Most between, every

Now and then. Just patter

Now into my head. Date

Me again and . . . . . . . . but, oh wait.

Never mind that because

Time is the essence

Death’s your eternal pause.

They smirk and say to me

Take another look. See?

Your love belongs in a history book.

By Rebecca Williams

ImageThis is a poem that I wrote, about the tragedy of falling in love with fictional or historical figures. It is painful, methinks! Have you ever experienced this? Are you familiar with that all-too-terrible gravitational pull of reality, which practical people in your life are all to ready to re-enforce?:D

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