Time passed...
But landscape stood the same.
Seasons were running fast
I was the only one who changed.
My clay skin was now drying,
as I was getting older.
I felt I was close to dying
and Michelle would keep on riding
and always feeling stronger.
For ever she would hang on to life
and to that beautiful Merry-Go-Round.
She was stable, I was wobbly
on her torso, carried up and down.
Scratching in despair
i wounded her.
But she was strong enough to bear.
Not being fair, I did not care
and my clay became bitter.
(She would never let the ride end...)
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