cluttering the net since 2001

Wilson - poem

Saturday, Jan. 05, 2002
Castaway is being shown on HBO and I had to dig this goofy-ass poem out of my files. Aligned to the left for your viewing pleasure!


Iím going to buy a volleyball
Yeah thatís what Iím going to do
A ďWilsonĒ of my very own
Someone to talk to instead of you

I could paint him a pretty picture
Using the blood of my soul
Iíll tell him all my problems
Heíll make me completely whole

I know he wonít say much
And that is still quite okay
I will just imagine that he
Is someone intelligent that way

Iíll give him the perfect hairdo
And heíll be my forever friend
He wonít do what you do
Heíll be there for me past the end

It wonít matter if he loses air
Or has a hole in his head
Iíll pretend that you are there
When you run away instead

Iíll chatter to him all night long
About the hurt I feel inside
I know that he will make me strong
He wonít run away and hide

ďWilsonĒ will be my salvation
When I have nowhere to go
Iíll tell him all my deepest thoughts
The ones you donít care to know

Iíll paint him a friendly smile
That no torrential rains can flood
Iíll use permanent magic marker
Cause Iím now fresh out of blood

I suppose itís all a fallacy
To think I need someone
But fact is in reality
ďWilsonĒ can be anyone

So now I lay me down to sleep
And as I clutch a volleyball
Now I will be able to freely weep
When you donít hear me at all

January 17, 2001
10:17 p.m. ::
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