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Poetic T Oct 2014
The wheel spun, as the creaking
Of old rusted joints moved Upon
A
Tattered
Frame,
Its was with in the spinning
The voices sang
The wheel shall spin"
"Fates hand shall tell"
"For will the wheel move"
"Silent"
"Or"
"Sights bell"
I awoke startled, hearing the
Wheels turn, old spokes
Sounding with each rotation,
I looked upon the old bike
A ringing in my ears,
No wheels to move,
"Just an empty shell"
What made the noises
"I touch my head"
I feel blood, like tears falls to the ground
I am conscious and the spokes
Upon a crumpled wheel,
"Each spoke still spinning"
By the movement of the car wheel,
Each one takes
Hair
Skull
Brain,
My mind trying to shield me
From my fate, but the bell on the
Handlebar,
Bing
"BIng"
"BING"
Awoke me to my fate, a broken
Reflector shows what closed eyes
Did cloak, from me to see,
I scream,
A
Maddening
Scream,
As I lie crumpled a broken shell,
And this mirror
A front row image
Of my death in slow motion,
The wheel turns I hear the bell,
And with the final chime
The wheel turns but there is no one home,
To hear the bells ring and the wheel carries on..
Don't even ask where this came from??
aar505n Sep 2014
From the dock,
I saw the wheel turn.
I wonder,
when is it my turn?
My turn at turning.
Being stationary
isn't satisfactory

I want to go,
even if the turning is slow.
Makes no difference to me.
What I love to be
is to turn above the sea.
Soaring high and free.
written while at Albert Dock in Liverpool.
comment/criticism welcomed
Хейли May 2014
I  need a girl,
who's smile,
I fall into love with so much,
that her smile drives me to capture,
those single moments of her,
in a form of colors
on my easel.
y i k e s May 2014
your mind is a hamster on the wheel

running, running, running
spinning, spinning, spinning

never knowing

when to stop
i Apr 2014
you would think
a ferris wheel is fun.

you would think
a ferris wheel is romantic.

you would think
a ferris wheel is scary.

but you should know
a ferris wheel is plain stupid.

because it is just a huge wheel,
that spins round and round,
not making a difference.
this poem is plain stupid,

— The End —