Seated at a party, a room of people awaits. The faces bear similarity; their stories stand apart. Garbed in their own liking, their own fancies cover their appearance from head to toe. Underneath their attire, the reality of experience harbors truth in their faces. They smile, greet, and search for brief contact. For the show of shows, they look for a moment of understanding of another.

Some shall judge in haste
others will appreciate and admire
The revolving room serves as a door
that opens and closes upon invitations and tastes
upon destiny and acceptance

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