Jul 2017
Spinning and whirling, of course it would stop
Right here at this God forsaken spot
That wheel of time never did like her
In good times that wheel couldn't spin faster
In bad times that wheel would be dragging an anchor
Grinding through loneliness, bad things did occur
It use to be when she was in this agonizing place
Floating there in outer space
Desperately wanting friends so bad
But in outer space there's none to be had
Night time in her darkened room, she let the agony go
With every sharp slice like fire, blood filled with agony would flow
Spinning slowly into good times, it brought with it friends
One was a soul-friend connected through centuries, he was a Godsend
Teaching her how to deal with the loneliness, and darkness
He reminded her of the pen's savage caress
He was a great poet, with a shattered caring heart
"Bleed ink on the paper to make it depart"
"I love you dear friend, use the pen instead of the blade to drain
All the agonizing sorrow, and dark thoughts in your brain"
Soon figuring out they were friends of the soul, talking everyday
She prayed it would always stay that way
She got use to the "I love you" said to each other
When she was sad, big Bear hugs that smothered
Quickly the wheel spun good around to bad
In that day, in just a few hours she lost all she had
His demons had won, they had finally taken him down
On deaths door, bet you can guess by who he was found
It was a grief of the soul, she had never felt before
Far beyond agony, sorrow, or pain, this was a different door
One by one the other friends slowly disappear
It doesn't matter how, she's right back here
Wheel grinds slowly through loneliness
She's trying everything not to be depressed
Carefully she takes out and caress the tiniest wrinkle out of the paper
Pen now in hand, writing so fast ink almost becomes vapor
She drains her pain into her new friends she creates
With the blackest ink her darkness she tries to illuminate
With her paper friends she tries to banish the crushing loneliness
Trying to fill the spot he left, trying to fill the emptiness
©Pauline Russell
Right here at this God forsaken spot
That wheel of time never did like her
In good times that wheel couldn't spin faster
In bad times that wheel would be dragging an anchor
Grinding through loneliness, bad things did occur
It use to be when she was in this agonizing place
Floating there in outer space
Desperately wanting friends so bad
But in outer space there's none to be had
Night time in her darkened room, she let the agony go
With every sharp slice like fire, blood filled with agony would flow
Spinning slowly into good times, it brought with it friends
One was a soul-friend connected through centuries, he was a Godsend
Teaching her how to deal with the loneliness, and darkness
He reminded her of the pen's savage caress
He was a great poet, with a shattered caring heart
"Bleed ink on the paper to make it depart"
"I love you dear friend, use the pen instead of the blade to drain
All the agonizing sorrow, and dark thoughts in your brain"
Soon figuring out they were friends of the soul, talking everyday
She prayed it would always stay that way
She got use to the "I love you" said to each other
When she was sad, big Bear hugs that smothered
Quickly the wheel spun good around to bad
In that day, in just a few hours she lost all she had
His demons had won, they had finally taken him down
On deaths door, bet you can guess by who he was found
It was a grief of the soul, she had never felt before
Far beyond agony, sorrow, or pain, this was a different door
One by one the other friends slowly disappear
It doesn't matter how, she's right back here
Wheel grinds slowly through loneliness
She's trying everything not to be depressed
Carefully she takes out and caress the tiniest wrinkle out of the paper
Pen now in hand, writing so fast ink almost becomes vapor
She drains her pain into her new friends she creates
With the blackest ink her darkness she tries to illuminate
With her paper friends she tries to banish the crushing loneliness
Trying to fill the spot he left, trying to fill the emptiness
©Pauline Russell
