Revolving Doors
I forget where I've been going
As I enter the tall building
Through the glassy revolving doors.
In circles, I spin, not knowing
What the other side's withholding
Through the glassy revolving doors.
The human traffic keeps flowing
Around frames of glossy gilding
Through the glassy revolving doors.
Yet somehow I end up nowhere.
I'm never close getting there
Through the glassy revolving doors.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
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