Poem About Locked Doors

In prayer to the door.

Poem about locked doors.

But at last came a knock and i thought of the door. Locked doors poem by joseph narusiewicz. Life s true potential is a locked door. And i though of the door with no lock to lock.

But that key is what lies in your hands. Locked rusted doors fill the soul with dread fading in the distance of an endless hall onward ever onward into eternal dark resisting their pull not heeding their call knowing behind one flickers life s spark from so many doors it s impossible to choose when endlessly new ones materialize anew open the wrong one and there is much to loose. But the knock came again. Back over the sill i bade a come in to whatever the knock at the door may have been.

It has all your bad dreams in it. When we locked up the house at night we always locked the flowers outside. You become a house where the wind blows straight through because no one bothers the crack in the window or lock on the door and you re the house where people come and go as they please because you re simply too unimpressed to care. But the knock came again.

However there is a locked room up there. Some say the angels lock it from the outside. So you run like a spark of evilthe world like a snakemy eyes cry. My window was wide.

However there is a locked room up there. I blew out the light i tip toed the floor and raised both hands. And cut them off from window light. The time i dreamed the door was tried.

Some say the devil locks the door. Some say the angels lock it from the outside. Poem by robert frost. The people inside have no water.

Some say the devil locks the door. So at a knock i emptied my cage to hide in the world. I blew out the light i tip toed the floor and raised both hands in prayer to the door. With no lock to lock.

The people inside have no water. With an iron door that can t be opened. As told to a child. A blue locked door.

My window was wide. I climbed on the sill and descended outside. Do not now seek the answers which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. It has all your bad dreams in it.

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. With an iron door that can t be opened.