Closed Doors
Happiness is waitingJust open the door
Memories are fading
Even if the pain isn't
Your bones are breaking
Cracking at the core
Whole body shaking
Even when your heart is still
Closed Doors
Happiness is waitingPoetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
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