One Door Poem by Hazel Night

One door.

How can one door keep such forces apart,

how can it separate

what is meant to be?



Four walls.

A cage enclosing

on me

trapping me from

the world outside.



I was meant to go out

I was meant to speak

I was meant to inspire

I was meant to be free.



Damp air

crawls all over my face.

It freezes

my brain.

When can I come out?



Freedom

will it ever come?

Will I ever see the torch

in great Lady Liberty's hand?


Or will I rot?

A lesser being.

A bacteria.

A disease.



Just one door.