Old Doors and Hinges..
The Old door stood open
All weathered and worn..
the paint was peeling
the hinges were torn..
left there abandoned
with glass in the floor
I felt the sadness
of the green open door..
There once was a time
of clean shiny floors
glass in the windows
new paint on the doors..
She's old and she's fading
weathered by rain and wind
her hinges are rusty
hanging on like a friend..
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Comments about this poem (Old Doors and Hinges.. by Connetta Jean )
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