Rosario, Argentina, 2013
As the world spins, so do I
Like a top on a table.
Spinning visions from my eyes,
I view myself detatched from surfaces.
Dizzy and nervous
I spin with an unknown purpose
Until I stop spinning,
Wobble and die.
But Why, does time fly
At such speed as we're older?
And not as we're young,
Spinning swift and bolder.
Do we get used to the motion,
Like moss on the rolling stone,
Or more like a ship that rests on the ocean?
In time perceptions strengthen
And wonder lust no longer hastens,
As our time allows us to reflect,
And our Self becomes as hard as bone.
As the world spins, so do I
Like a top on a table,
Spinning steady, soon unstable.