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The door
| Open Poetry #45 |
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The door |
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N|D|N|C|Lost-Poet Member
since 2009-07-30
Posts 360New Orleans |
It was almost as if, I was stuck in a room, Four walls and a door, Oh such a tiny room, The dust caked handle, For it had been long, Since I had attempted, My escape, Why even bother, Isn't as if I had a key, My life story, Written by a million lines before me, Shall I live it as, Those lines made the path? Shall I pave my own road, Without a cement cast, Maybe I'll find a hand, To warm my own, Maybe I'll find a hundred million eyes, To watch my own, Maybe I'll find a dream, As if I haven't dreamed a million of my own. If I don't find a hand, I have two of my own, If I don't find a hundred million eyes, I have two of my own, If I can't live my dream. You can live it for me. "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." Oscar Wilde |
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| © Copyright 2009 Zachariah Gavia-Peyton - All Rights Reserved | |||
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martiniat8 Senior Member
since 2003-06-21
Posts 897Prague, Bohemia, Czech Republic |
touching, deep insight into, a lovely read. I lived a hermits life for quite a while, and last summer came out and have stayed out, taking chances again, letting people in, making my own road and haven't regreted it a bit. I hope you see that own road of yours and follow it. |
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