Only Spin


Like a lantern on a train
Random pattern of the rain,
Like the sound made by a ghost
All that's found traded for lost,

When the world is only spin
And the symbols deep within
Move apart and then decay
When the night becomes the day

Every eye that saw a blank
Was staring not to see or thank
What was never very plain
One may only look again

All that's found traded for lost
Like the sound made by a ghost
Random pattern of the rain
Like a lantern on a train.




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 91 times
Written on 2018-01-27 at 02:25

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Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Excellent.
2018-01-27

Texts




KA
by Chaucer Whethers