Empty. Vacant. Broken. Useless.
The ways to describe
the rust-covered, abandoned
Ferris wheel.
What it really is is lost.
Lost. Soulless. Helpless.
Standing alone in a rundown theme park,
standing as only a memory.
Its purpose has drifted away,
detached itself from the body,
leaving only its ghost to suffer
and watch as life goes on without it.
The wind guides it into the familiar rotation,
reminding it of what it once was.
The slow, eerie creaks of its movement
cry out in the empty skies;
its echoes dancing through the park.
It screams, “I am unloved!”
“I’m lost! I’m scared!”
“I don’t want to be forgotten!”
So the wheel keeps turning,
Holding on to whatever is left of its
Empty, soulless life.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
Empty. Vacant. Broken. Useless.
The ways to describe
the rust-covered, abandoned
Ferris wheel.
What it really is is lost.
Lost. Soulless. Helpless.
Standing alone in a rundown theme park,
standing as only a memory.
Its purpose has drifted away,
detached itself from the body,
leaving only its ghost to suffer
and watch as life goes on without it.
The wind guides it into the familiar rotation,
reminding it of what it once was.
The slow, eerie creaks of its movement
cry out in the empty skies;
its echoes dancing through the park.
It screams, “I am unloved!”
“I’m lost! I’m scared!”
“I don’t want to be forgotten!”
So the wheel keeps turning,
Holding on to whatever is left of its
Empty, soulless life.
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