Objectivity
Bad pun poem.
I wish I was a door
Not a window of opportunity,
Just a door.
Because then I’d be…
adoorable.
My brass embellishments
Glinting like fountain pennies
Curling like vines , hugging my corners
Yet made out of old wood, I would be keeping all my forest secrets doormant
Hide my own never land, my Narnia,
Yellow bricks don’t determine my fate
I am doorothy, I have met the wizard,
He hides behind me all the time,
Even when we’re alone
Because I know there’s no place like home
My mantra for living is the door way,
My boyfriend a door keeper,
And when I marry him door bells will be ringing down the hall letting everyone know that I am home
But I am also an exit and
I shut ever so quickly
You will watch what you’re leaving behind linger in your eyesight,
Until it disappears completely
I am nostalgia, sayonara , hesitation, and regret
I am counting off years off the top of your children’s heads
My sides pencil marked with their heights when they were at the heights of their childhood
Until your sight lined up with the final grey slash
I am the post you lean on when you realize they grow too fast
But I was the one who lead the way I am the mast
When they say goodbye to home I will be the last
Because I am future and past
But which side is which you will have to choose
(I have no responsibilities I am only a door.)
When I grow old I will have knobby knees.
I will pine at lingering kisses,
I will lock one way or another when you leave
For the mistakes that you wore, I am a fedoora
For your birthday parties, I am adoorned
For your everyday hobbies , I am a doork
Your amigo, I go where you go, I’m the map, the warrior, doora the Explorer
And when family and friends fill you house with love and laughter then leave I am doory Ill just keep swinging just keep swinging just keep swinging swinging swinging and shut.
I wish I was a door
Not a window of opportunity
just a door.