The Door



The Door

Before me there is a door
With a rusty wooden handle
I feel like I've stood here before
Like a stoic vandal

The smell of moisture hits me
Like a rotting decay
Should I reach for the knob
Or stay away

On the other side there's history
Like a trunk full of memories
A whole damn story
But you have to pick out a few fleas

I stand rooted to the Earth
Not knowing what to do
From the moment of birth
I was still part of you

I feel my hand outstretch
But dear God I'm scared
I'm afraid that there might be a catch
Or the feelings might not be shared

I'm scared of backsliding
Or feeling inadequate
This wild horse I'm riding
Doesn't mean shit

Could I rewrite history
And fix the bitterness
Time does fade slowly
There's nothing I want to miss

I don't want any regrets
Or blackness inside me
But the world pays its bets
And life turns to insanity

I twist the knob slowly
And open the door carefully this time
I remove all the weeds to see
And cut away each vine

When I open my eyes I see beauty
Surrounded by a lot of pain
I'll set our bond free
If you help me unlock the chain

A.D. Small
August 16, 2023
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Written on August 16, 2023

Submitted by amberp.35129 on August 22, 2023

1:13 min read
2

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABAB CDXD CECE FGFG XHXH IXIX CXCX JCJC CXCX CKCK XX
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 1,119
Words 236
Stanzas 11
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 2

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    "The Door" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/167046/the-door>.

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