SPINNING

SPINNING

Spinning, spinning madly, out of control.
Just like a satellite, straight for the black hole.
The wide open black hole of space,
Falling so swiftly out of grace.

Spinning. spinning into the sun.
Lost to myself and to everyone.
Spinning, spinning blind to the day,
Spinning, spinning, so quickly away.

Preprogrammed to self-destruct,
I charge my way through the sands of time,
Detonated like some deadly bomb,
That falls without a warning sign.

Spinning, spinning, out of here,
Charting the course from far to near.
Spinning, spinning, life slips so far,
Here in my intergalactic car.

Preprogrammed to agonize,
I forge my way across tortured skies.
Like a slave to perpetuity.
Lost forever to the land of the free.

Preprogrammed to blindly fear,
Each mile of my journey here,
And happy to be tumbling far,
Far from the life of this lonesome star.

Spinning, spinning into space,
Quitting the amazing race,
Exiled to the furthest star,
My spirit bruised, my psyche scarred.

Spinning, spinning madly, a forgotten soul,
Like a whirlpool in a mixing bowl,
The wide open black hole of space,
Falling so swiftly out of grace.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2011
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED