Open doors

There's light streaming,

From that crack in the wall,

It was a crack when I wasn't thinking,

But now it's a door,

It's wide open,

But I know I can't get through,

It's just too small,

Or is that just my mind?

There's light coming in,

From the open ceiling

Again it's wide open too,

 But it's too high to reach,

Or should I just broaden my horizons?

There's a door,

 It's on the floor,

A gust of wind and it opens,

And blue light emanates,

But is that the light of evil?

There are cracks and holes and doorway frames,

Eating up the floor and walls,

And I cling to what's left for dear life,

Because it is my life,

But the room fills with colors of coalescing lights,

So bright its hard to look,

Intensifying by the second,

And I know I must choose a door,

Before fate does so for me,

But now I hold tight,

And hope that I don't fall

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed