![]() My Dearest Oscar.A Poem by Thomas Fitzgerald![]() An error by a fan for a writers, a God, a criminal.![]() My dearest and sweet Oscar, My thoughts reach out across time for you, Tempers flare at the demise of greatness, A hand once stroking now withered by two. Alfred knocks on vanity’s door to often, The scourge of trouble never far from his lips, Tactless and loved by all and marred by fathers, His only premise is bound to him, his hips. She, Constance, wrote measures to stop you, Her heart never in one place or one time, Protective Mothers using weapons of femininity, A true tramp is her only and deceased crime. You now lay wasted and too far from my reach, No more quips to tickle them or for me to foster, Lay silent and sleep to know you are genius, I love you, Wilde, my dearest sweet Oscar. © 2011 Thomas FitzgeraldAuthor's Note
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36 Reviews Added on November 14, 2011 Last Updated on November 14, 2011 Author![]() Thomas FitzgeraldWexford, Leinster, IrelandAboutTo all who know by now - I love you. For those that don't, I review a lot of work on here, and I expect the same in return, friend me but make sure to have conviction! I'm a horror writer mostly bu.. more..Writing
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