Around, around, around
We walk with plastic smiles
Turning on the false hearts.
Around, around, around
Uncomfortably we walk
And like criminals we talk.
The same as the day before
Trapped in this gilded world.
Around, around, around
Looking for that speck of hope
Yet all appears dark and remote.
Around, around, around.
by Mitchell McKinnon
This entry was posted
on Saturday, June 7th, 2008 at 8:46 pm and is filed under Life Poetry.
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