The old world
keeps spinning round
and we keep
spinning with it.
Our lives
go this way and that,
up and down
and sideways flat.
As the pressures
in our lives increase,
we wonder
if we will ever survive,
but we do
constantly each day.
The only time it will stop
is when
we are dead and gone.

16 April 2008

David Harris

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-keep-spinning/