Crowded alone, for a lonely cry,
by Sandra Osborne
Grasping, pleading, aching to feel,
Feeling hurt, not knowing why,
Like riding on a Ferris Wheel.
With desperate desolations,
Little rationalizing minds,
Like an imagined indecision,
Just like elation in a bind.
Then sanity comes round again,
Turning to meet up with before,
Go round, Go round, Go round, my dear,
Around the circle, dear, once more.
I stop and gaze, and then I see,
A lovely lovers gallery,
Those gone, those here, those yet to be,
All Stars, my love, my galaxy.