Turning, I saw
A shimmering wall
Of memories so fond
I dare not stop.
A dark, churning whirlpool
Draws me in
With omnipotence
And the glimpse of a carrot.
I enter with a frown
The joy of leaving a smile
Terror has no bounds
As a picture frame.
Disappointment has a prelude
Expectation a dread
And reality a sting
Beyond price.