My voice is a poet's, it defies closed doors.
Don't you smile when you hear it, behind closed doors?
They say every prayer reaches its God.
I follow my prayer, but I find closed doors.
They creak to tell me that they can still open.
But they shall not open, unkind closed doors.
"Open", I've shrieked, "Open", I've cried.
"But we are not doors", denied closed doors.
'Raazi' lived and died to find his place in hearts-
hearts that were nothing, but disguised closed doors.
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
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this is really abstract in a way that isn't apparent right off... it could be viewed as simple or something, but really it goes much deeper into a weird place in the mind.
[that, or i'm just really tired... but I'm pretty sure it's the piece]
it intrigues me a bit.
thanks for sharing it with me -
read this before................have to admit we stand on opposite poles when it comes to poetry...........i want to reach people's guts ,not their hearts
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heartrending!
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