Hiding Poem by John Anderson

We give ourselves a place to hide
With simple words that do abide
Words we use to shut the door
To knowing us forever more

We paint the door a friendly coat
To mask the cracks that do denote
And hope our hinges won't betray
What we own in disarray.

As we stand behind this door
A crack of light above the floor
It does allow light seams in
That do little for the view within

We think the doorbell's ring is clear
But its true sound we do not hear
This door of platitudes do prevent
Letting all know the self-evident