I have nothing to show for
all my wasted years spent
circling round the center,
ever drawing nearer than
the space between myself and the looking sphere.
How will I ever know if you're here?
Time has made me an owner.
I've got a lot to lose.
When I see all my things
I get thoroughly amused and I
remember the many times I've seen through fear.
Oh but I haven't yet shrunk the sphere.
Tell me where you go
when I see you fading out.
Where is it you hide?
Is it somewhere inside
where the curvature is too strong
for me to stand?
Too strong for me to stand outside and wonder.