this is my life.
Up and down, all around, I'm dizzy and I'm sick.
I got on the ride, I buckled up, and I paid for this.
The man at the controls laughs as he sends me 'round again,
Begging him to stop the ride as all the backgrounds blend.
But it doesn't stop, I'm stuck in this seat and by the bars I'm bound.
I don't remember what it's like to be still on the ground.
No one told me I was signing up for such a dirty trick.
My life is up and down, round and round so dizzy and so sick.
2 comments:
Wow, thanks for your encouragement, AK! I have been reading more of your work, you are much more of an artist than I!
Hope
Didn't mean it that way, don't want to make you uncomfortable. It's just that you WORK on your work, and I pretty much just spout. If I were comparing, I would feel too self conscious and probably never write again!
The Well poem was less about dying and more about not having any more dropped on my head!
I have a "public face" blog and this one, which I haven't given the address to anyone I know. Some of the stuff here is posted there, but not much.
Hope
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