A poem

Swirling mad dreams awakening to screams that die in midair whirling swirling around the centrifuge the dizzying luge I spin..

Where to begin to grasp and hold on? this world is spinning spinning like a child’s top, if it stops, we plunge in the void,

Violence and vitriol vying to win, helpless we all look away as the wheel spin, spin, spins we are pins in an alley where the madmen own the lanes, we are wastewater spinning down the drain.

I awoke from the dream, sweat soaked and cloaked in the tendrils of despair, am I the only one that cares? of course not but while we take time to awake the madmen who never sleep just take, take and take.

Chris.