My mind is a ferries wheel,
It goes around & around,
Can you hear the creaking.

The carriages so many
Pretty colours, scratched
Thoughts. Broken carriages,
each one that stops, damaged
Contemplation of a mind torn.

My mind is a Ferris wheel
It has broken parts, it creaks
With every thought. Its a
Crumbling, dilapidated ride.

Which one will be the last
Carriage that carries my
broken thought, before it
Ceases. And this broken
Ride no longer dreams.