All the while the world keeps spinning,
I'm lost, alone, and getting dizzy.
All I see is spinning, spinning, spinning.
Things go round and round;
I've lost myself, I just don't know.
Spinning, spinning, spinning.
The world is fast and passing me by,
my whole life to live before I die.
People changing, friends moving,
wars starting, people dying,
lives beginning, stories ending...
Spinning, spinning, spinning.
Where oh where do I turn?
Where oh where? My stomach churns.
Where oh where is the world beginning?
Where oh where is my life living?
Spinning, spinning, spinning.
All around,
round and round.
Here I am, falling to the ground.
People going, people coming,
leaving me behind, making me feel too fast.
People
going, going, going
in this crazy world that keeps on
spinning, spinning, spinning.
All around,
round and round.
I'm hurt and injured,
lost and found.
Here I am, bleeding on the ground.
In a few minutes I'll not be living.
All the while the world keeps spinning.
.................................................................
I wrote this poem when I was 15, and it might have been my peak... ;)
I was really thinking of a different poem I had written when I was 13, but I couldn't find it...
"I sit and stare, longing for that air, the feel of freedom pressed against my fingerstips, yet still so far away..." A slightly less dramatic piece, describing condensation on a window as the sun goes down...
Anyway, even if we do all live inconsequential lives that come to a tragical end... at least... well... um...
At least every small voice does matter, in the lives of the people to whom it matters...