What was I thinking?
I’m not even sure that
I know the answer to
that question. Did I ever
mention that, no matter,
the intention, thoughts
become suspended? Days
of my past mix together.
Former ideas whirl around
like a reverberating sound.
I couldn’t tell you what I was
thinking. All I know is what
I was feeling. Hindsight is 20/20.
Some days were bad even when
it was sunny. I look back before
walking through the next door.
My eyes are windows,
and my mouth is
a door I slam shut
here and there.
My feet are floorboards.
My body is the house
that my mind powers.
I live here; I try to keep
it nice. I have my own
back. It supports me.
My arms reach out
to my neighbors.
My soul lives inside
the air that we share.
My heart hides beside
lungs that breathe
and preach peace.
My eyes are windows
to an unknown world.
Are you ready to go
to a place only I know?
Doors tell us to push or pull;
people do no such thing.
With people, we don’t know
which to do. We pull people
closer or we push them away.
Sadly, it’s always hard to say
whether to push or to pull.
Do we empty our glasses
before they become full?
Before we make the call,
let’s think about it all.
Let me ask: push or pull?
Whichever one you chose,
close the door behind you.
Windows let others in. Doors close others out.
Windows and doors make up places we live.
Open windows provide insight into one’s life.
Closed doors ignore outsiders galore. So many
windows – so many doors – so many years –
so many fears. Unlock the doors and open
the windows, and show others how to grow.
What are you waiting for?
For the door to swing open?
Stuck and wishing for more?
For happiness to just happen?
Don’t settle, the forefront is waiting.
Keep pushing towards what is right
And if you ever see yourself debating
Follow your gut and test your might.
Because the forefront is waiting
For a fighter like you
To find solace
And to find the forefront too.
X
The sad truth is that doors stay close
Until it is opened by a powerful force
Making the effort and doing the most
To change without remorse.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 