Butterflies In My Belly Forever

Revolving Door

What is time but something that fills in the gaps,
The gaps between memories, days gone by and breaths that we take.
It seems to be a revolving door.
As seasons come and seasons go,
so do the moments that make the revolving door.
We find ourselves in the midst of emotions, some good and some bad.
Surrounded by different scenes of people and thoughts.
Sometimes we are happy and content in this little corner of the world,
The one that we and time create.
The scenes come and go, each hopefully with a valuable lesson.
The people we love, we watch and wait like we do our children.
Waiting for those special moments,
The ones that create revolving doors.
As time fills the gaps, the people come and people go,
The lessons are learned and emotions change,
Sometime they fill you up, or leave you laying on the floor.
The time that makes a revolving door.

Poem Submitted: Monday, September 13, 2010

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