You don't pay attention to me like you used to. You walk past me, shake your head like you can't believe what's happened... then go on with your day.
There was a time... not so long ago... that you raved about my beauty. You snapped pictures of me every day and visited me often. But now you can't seem to stand the sight of me.
Oh, I was once a beauty, that's for sure.
Before my beauty was anticipation of the miracle that would one day emerge... and be everything you thought I'd be.
But that was then and this is now. And though I'm on my way out, next year spring will promise a new hope and counterpart.
And the world keeps turning.
