Open The Door
Strolling the Closet, the Caste…
Skeletons with Headsets…
Toys… from the Past.
Three walls…One Door…
A Thousand Memories.
Dolls and Gowns…For Evermore…
Shards of Scents,
Ravenous Hopes and Dreams…and:
Ballroom Nightmares.
Gone Days…Needless Nights.
Passion. Shoes. Trinkets…Bones.
Un-lost Loves…Stale Overtones.
I Rhyme for reason…
in the darkness Known.
It’s Cold Hard in Here with No One Home.
I Preach to the sounds of Empty…
Suits…and Blouses of Mary.
My Humble Soul Sulks in…
Missionary Fashion.
This Closet Breathes… a Wreath of you,
The Door Closed on time…
It’s just…I’m All… out of New
And Reason of You.
Close the Door.
© DRB 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem