Doorways

VintageDoors

Doorways are all that divide the world,
Being this side or that,
On one side new, the other old,
Outside a doormat,

The space you face a faceless door,
The handle in your hand,
The turn that makes the world before
The world you left behind,

The wall that nothing can climb, the hinge
Everything moves about,
The choice between whom you let in
And who must be left out.

Doorways are all that divide the world,
The days you must get through,
The dead weight of the nights you hold
Between yourself and you.

 

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Too simple?

Hmmmm

25 April 2016

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