a poem by Skye Kerri- Leigh Bagshaw, UK

Silent stumblings in a barren but bleakly busy
World crumbling criminally from destruction
Of our own causing.
Nothing is ever the same,
Or it is too consistent and boring
And people won't accept blame.

Spinning around.
Spinning around.
Spinning around.

The top of the world
But fast on the ground
As loud as the band
But like a mouse not making a sound.


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