Corridor Poem by Andrew Rose

I’m running through a corridor full of doors,
I keep hoping for that last door to open,
And to see a different image,
But it seems I am stuck with an eternity of doors…
For now?

I must run faster and faster,
To get to the end,
It’s tiring work opening more and more doors
In search for you,
But only achieving a prolonging intensity of heart ache,
The anticipation of longing,
Infinite possibilities.

The doors slam shut behind me,
Exits sealed shut,
No way back and only one way forward,
I’m not sure how long this will last.

Corridors as prison cells,
Each one a cage,
No bars to rattle,
No one to share these experiences with.

Who can help?
Who will help?
Do I need to ask for help?

The deepest of sadness’s compels me not to move,
To stay for a while,
A prisoner of sorrow,
Drowning in my own pity in my corridor,
Each door revealing a fresh breeze of woe…

But I’ve had enough of that.