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Behind Closed Doors
Who is to say, what lies behind closed doors?
What is behind one's own door?
Or the door of another?
My Door?
Who can say?
I fear to open that door,
My door.
So many doors, so little time.
Do I dare turn that knob,
That golden handle,
And spread my soul for all to see?
Open the lid on my pain?
Most people will only know
What they can see.
Those who stay despite my door,
Know more than I can say.
When fire and fighting is all I see,
They sit and hold me.
I deserve them not.
That door,
My door.
Should remain closed to them.
No need to drag them with me.
I don't want that door to open,
To see what lies beyond it.
Forever bound by that fear of pain,
Will they help me through?
Or shall they drop me like a stone,
To drown in pain and sorrow.
To become a marionette,
Dangling from fragile strings of silk,
That may snap under my weight.