our make..

Possibility bound; safely I,
on my lacking visage place,
your worthier face,
mounding on my mound,
straight pulling you.

All find me and should,
an unparalleled parallel
of another you,
yet I desire another,
desirous circle of desire.

Parts of parts of you all,
little or more becomes me.
I turn to your power,
and away too I go,
should I stay unoccupied.

Your riches I then spin into,
but always forsaken poor,
as it is never enough;
I run to win this instance,
your attention yes.

Why look away,
when you make me me?
why you portray me,
and then
leave me in sketches?

You stand on the circle,
but I find you far,
and just then I realize,
I keep turning all the time;
and the time runs out.