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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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