My Office Has Many Doors Poem by Deepak Manchanda of Delhi

My office has many doors
Doors
Doors that open
Doors that do not
Doors that jam
Close, and do not open

Doors
Doors that are wide
Doors that are not
Doors, like narrow slots
Thin, cannot open anymore
Doors for every floor
Metallic, to lift
Glass
Wood
And brassy knobs

Doors, doors
For every floor
Doors that swing
Others that revolve
Those that are opened
For some
Others that unlock
Rest of the flock

Doors
Behind I leave the last, to see
There, up above
A window
And in it, smiling

The face I love.