Plans change,
It’s nothing strange.

People come,
Then they leave.

Like a carousel,
or a revolving door,

The ones we loved
come and go as
they please.

There’s no need
to worry, no need
to be torn.

It’s just that

We outgrew the
ones we thought
we knew,

And only holding on
to a select few.

It’s nothing we
did,

It’s not what we
chose.

It’s just the
realization

that part of
growing up

is finding who
we are too.