It’s all a big merry-go-round
Whirling, whirling, faster, faster
The lights blur together
And, in momentarily frozen glimpses,
Reflect in the eyes of the people you love
As they smile, unaware of the whirling
Aware only of the light
Soon their faces dim, and they fade into the spinning
woodwork,
Etched in the panels of memory and gradually succumbing
To the sanding palm of time, which makes shallow every
groove
Carved by friendship or desire
Or the bitter lonesomeness that masquerades as mutually understood
silence
If this present numbness did not spill into the past,
This sadness could be less hollow,
More complete, less of a grieving for the absence of grief
Smile a little bit
Because the lights are whirling in your eyes as only you can
see them
They cannot slow, they start to dim,
The numbness is in your eyes now,
The etchings are barely there now,
So smile a little bit
Because what else can you do?
Lonely, lonely starlight
And the peace which passeth all understanding
