spinning still

the merry-go-round goes round and round
and here I sit complacent--maybe--
in the center watching those around me live,
become distant
while I sit afraid to jump into the
blurred unknown of the greater world
though experience whispers the potential pain
is worth it
and really it's this small spot of comfort
I sit on that streaks larger smudges
upon my lens with every opportunity I pass up
yet still I only stare at my unmoving knees
and wonder
how does anyone ever find North in this spinning mess

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