Array ( [sid] => 186424 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Carrousel [time] => 2019-07-23 01:15:54 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Love makes us psychotic. A strange disease to get. Those whove got it grow neurotic; Theres a cure and yet

Lonely has a bitter taste that brings us back to try. The music played, love slipped away, were left to wonder why.
We know too well the carrousel. It’s music and delights. Most just sigh and pass it by. Two wrongs don’t make a right.

And still the painted ponies, dance without a care.
Up and down, round and round; Rushing to nowhere.

Each day we pay for one more stay upon the carrousel,
Our painted faces, hide the traces, hoping none can tell;
That tho we prance and preen and dance, love left us where we fell.

Like the painted ponies, parading at the fair. We are bound where love is found.
Hoping shell be there.
[comments] => 2 [counter] => 98 [topic] => 2 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LovePoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Carrousel


Carrousel
Date: Tuesday, 23rd July 2019 @ 01:15:54 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: softerware
Love makes us psychotic. A strange disease to get. Those whove got it grow neurotic; Theres a cure and yet

Lonely has a bitter taste that brings us back to try. The music played, love slipped away, were left to wonder why.
We know too well the carrousel. It’s music and delights. Most just sigh and pass it by. Two wrongs don’t make a right.

And still the painted ponies, dance without a care.
Up and down, round and round; Rushing to nowhere.

Each day we pay for one more stay upon the carrousel,
Our painted faces, hide the traces, hoping none can tell;
That tho we prance and preen and dance, love left us where we fell.

Like the painted ponies, parading at the fair. We are bound where love is found.
Hoping shell be there.


This poem is Copyright © softerware


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