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Another poem inspired by the life and times of Virginia Woolf.

Vist Natascha Tallowin's Profile


I always wondered what it was you thought

When your mind collided with the madness that flirted with your mind

The madness that stole sleep from your bed,

That sent you sailing,


Into complete and utter


I always wondered

How those stones felt between your hands.

I always wondered what you thought

As you stepped into the brittle, cold water

With weighted pockets

Without a care thrown to those who might see,

Those who might wonder

After all,

One who carries such anguish in her fingertips

Has no cause for femininity.

Did you think of lighthouses when the water flushed against your cheeks?

Did you bid farewell to Mrs Dalloway at the gate before you left?

Did words slide from books, from book cases?

And flutter to the floor with a cry?

I always wondered if you ever felt the relief that you craved.

The vacancy of words prickling at your fingers,

Swelling in the forefront of your mind

Did you find the peace?

That was never found by avoiding life?

Did you know that you were one of the greats?

A Great woman

Settling ungraciously

Into her steps,

With a smile always wobbling

Precariously close to a frown.


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