the doors

i'm sure this one is bad, because it lets the warm air out, and i feel the chills of the word outside.

there was a time when the double doors used to be every days life into the dark dusty walls of routine and everything else. now those double doors look so hollow.

then i remember the day when a door closing could cause my the deepest frustration looking through the little square window, like it was important. it all depended on everybody's perspective. some others liked open doors better.

for the longest time i didn't care about the open door, today when the sun was up, i found one of them open and the stuff inside was broken if not gone, and all of a sudden i feel ripped and angry, and so useless, and i know i'm going to need to do something about it, which i thought i never would.

and i visit places where the doors make a sound, but still nobody looks. now it's time to lock my door.