We would circle around the floor like angels.
You always looked like one to me.
Fast or slow it didn't matter at all.
We could keep the time well.
As long as you held on to me.
I was all I needed to be.
Nothing to worry about.
No thoughts of what could go wrong.
When we circled around.
I haven’t been there since.
To look in that direction is more then I can bare.
I don't even want to think about it.
And I don't know what to do.
This life of mine is like a rollercoaster.
up and down and all around.
Which is the only way to live.
At least while I'm above ground.
When I circle around.
I live enough to know what’s, what.
To accept the things I no longer have.
To appreciate what I still love.
And how to go on without my angel.
So thats my tale of love and lost.
What I think of to get me though it all.
All the things I still have to hold dear.
And all the new things I've found.
When it all circles around.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life does have this habit of circling around, good or bad depends, on which point of the circle we look at. Lovely poem here.