The handles were broken off and rusted
We slept in the foyer under the crystal lamps
Smell that? That is the worst of war coming
Let's pretend I believe you, for now
Hold on and wait for the smoke to clear
Tonight, we head for the hills or die trying
-
We are trapped by endless rows of doors
They are without knobs and speak endless riddles
Bastard children running wild in the heat
Grinding through the sunlight like gears
We've lived in hallways our whole lives
-
I am intended, not subjective, just a messenger
This theater will burn before morning
It is a matinee of war, curtains raised and quiet
All of the artists drowning in oil paints
Pools and pools of muddy color, dripping
-
This never ending hallway, this endless life
When will they find the skeleton key?
When will this house collapse?
A contest entry
- Doors by CarCrashHumor.
1200 points, ended June 1, 2008, 32 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
I liked the voice of the speaker in this- the tone was great.
"We are trapped by endless rows of doors
They are without knobs and speak endless riddles
Bastard children running wild in the heat
Grinding through the sunlight like gears
We've lived in hallways our whole lives
"
thanks for entering this! I like your take on the prompt
Adding your comment:
