Closed Door Poem by MARINA GIPPS
Closed Door
Where does that closed door go?
It mocks me, a small child,
my parents inside. They tell me
they are sleeping when I know
they are awake. These sounds I hear
are as indescript as any child
can possibly imagine. Imagine this,
little one, you are all grown up
in a small world of infinite twisting:
Lies,
they tell me all lies.
My brother was born here
in this room, this mockery.
And I was born nowhere-
the realm of these anguished sounds.
they are awake. These sounds I hear are as indescript as any child can possibly imagine. Imagine this, little one, you are all grown up in a small world of infinite twisting: Lies, they..... the way you write is not a funny way to keep us.... really you can make words more efectyively and hitting the morale
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/3/2026 1:22:31 PM # rel_20260801T223347Z_c882427
like this says so much and so easy to relate to the hidden world of the grown up