Poetry

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Around & around, again, Around & around, again please, Around & around... the pattern, the lifestyle... the moment of which I seem to live my life. Again, this feels good... awww... the feelings built up inside of me, but of what worth are they? What have my feelings brought me to? Can I name the place? I can't even place my finger upon it... up & down, keep going....

Somewhere... somewhere out there in that black sky holds my heart. Not just any heart, but the one from which the lie was spun from. "Cheer for the downfall, cheer the success of the failure... please again..." Could it be that what I have isn't what I have gained? Could it possible be true that what I have isn't mine? WHAT A STUPID IDEA... or is it?

Is the life we are born with truly are own? Is the choices we make truly what makes us who we are in life? Can the stains truly be washed? Maybe... and then maybe not... who knows, its not my place to point fingers. You decide... wait you already have... " I made the earth" says the man with the bottle in hand, "I made the skies" says the man with open hands... But then lighting killed him... funny, we think we are all but we can't stop fate; can we?

-Kyle

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