Theresa Ann Moore
The Sagging Door - Poem by Theresa Ann Moore
The old weathered entrance door
Is dragging and rubbing on the floor.
When it was required to go in or out…
It was necessary to forcibly push with clout.
The slump was from age and lack of attention.
The abrasive friction was causing annoying tension.
The problem was discovered after several reviews.
The hinges were detaching because of loose screws.
With the proper filliped driver and some propping,
The door now hangs and swings without dropping.
With a gentle turn of the doorknob and a nudge.
The door opens freely without an obstinate grudge.
Like a person who has let the years slowly drain away…
Letting enthusiasm fade because their hair is gray.
Resistance stands in their way and sadly interferes.
Fulfillment is not as difficult to attain as it appears.
With a slight adjustment of spirit and a little support...
The door will open wide and hopes will not stop short.
Remove all the friction and tension that slows the pace…
Let the promise of tomorrow bring a smile to your face.
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