Poem About Locked Doors

Do not now seek the answers which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.

Poem about locked doors.

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. So at a knock i emptied my cage to hide in the world. However there is a locked room up there. The key that opens to what lies behind.

And i though of the door with no lock to lock. Some say the angels lock it from the outside. In prayer to the door. 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.

Some say the devil locks the door. However there is a locked room up there. Some say the angels lock it from the outside. With an iron door that can t be opened.

It has all your bad dreams in it. Poem by robert frost. So you run like a spark of evilthe world like a snakemy eyes cry. I climbed on the sill and descended outside.

As told to a child. But that key is what lies in your hands. Locked doors poem by joseph narusiewicz. When we locked up the house at night we always locked the flowers outside.

And brushed with buttons upon sleeves the flowers were out there with the thieves. My window was wide. A blue locked door. I blew out the light i tip toed the floor and raised both hands in prayer to the door.

The people inside have no water. The people inside have no water. With an iron door that can t be opened. Some say the devil locks the door.

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. Back over the sill i bade a come in to whatever the knock at the door may have been. The time i dreamed the door was tried. It has all your bad dreams in it.

My window was wide. Life s true potential is a locked door. With no lock to lock. But at last came a knock and i thought of the door.

But the knock came again. I blew out the light i tip toed the floor and raised both hands.