Door Poem by Ron Farmer

if the heart was little more
it be a metaphore for door, u couldn't ignore.
the inside you'd love to explore
we'll call it a game u simply adore.
then again its just a metaphore For a door. Inside its me and a war.

behind the curtins they're certain things that gota stay hidden.
a Forbidden sting getten played like gutarist strings
Sitten next to me this gutarist sings,

lets start maken a list, i'm lost, this darkness is only here to assist.
Add in a twist, light is lost too, it can barly exist
yet I can only persist and open the door.
Take a walk and run with a metaphore its great.
Then I try to exscape.
trip and fall, its fate.
All in all. its rape.


behind the curtins they're certain things that gota stay hidden.
a Forbidden sting getten played like gutarist strings
Sitten next to me this gutarist sings,

its an ocean, im floaten in.
To think again I forgot how to swim. so I sink to the floor.
I sway to the current, this darkness spills and I get lost a little more.
then I hit the bottom. its darker still.
but Its not a problem, cuz its just a metaphore, For a door.