Six degrees

On the merry-go-round
Of a tired mind
On a lonely night
Of a long winter

They all come back to you
one by one, like the
dripping of water from
the leaky tap in the kitchen

All the memories that
you wanted to keep
and all those you wished
would just go away and get lost

The carousel spins slowly
slowly, ever so slowly
never letting you miss a thing
so slowly that it would take another life

to go back and see those
three-hundred-and-sixty degrees
of a life that passed by
in little more than a blink of an eye

tell me if it isn't so
oh yes, you can't say no
that some parts of the pie
were sweeter than those nearby

turning round, and round
you found yourself smiling
at the three-hundred-and-fifty-four
degrees, you wanted to see again

but between the lights of
the brightest past
between the stories of victory
of treasures vast

there lie the spaces
of darkness, dissipation
indelible, on the pages
of history, of recollection

can you face them,
your agents of persecution?
can you smother the cries
of the pain of ambition?

between the reality
and dreamed-of perfection
there's always more than just
six degrees of separation...
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This was an accidentally-conceived alternative spin on the term "six degrees of separation"