The revolving door spins swiftly, taking its passengers by surprise With its transient metamorphosis. The foreign scenery is at first exciting in its bold contrast, before boredom ages beauty and Weathers it away until it's faded and ugly like the peeling paint On an abandoned house.
Situations that caused tears, blood and agony become but foolish Memories, as attention and perception shift to new situations We gladly then sacrifice oursleves to.
A poem IΒ Β wrote on graduation day, I Go Back to May by Sharon Olds had been coming to thought that day.