The Last Door
6-22-2015
It was the last door for me to open.
I didn’t know what lay behind, hidden
Forgotten memories, feelings packed high?
Or if not forgotten, just painful. Lost.
It’s not special, chosen… But it's the last.
And it must open to finish my task
Twelve long months I’ve cleaned, twelve months long I’ve toiled.
Alone I’ve removed the detritus, ash,
Leftovers from a party unwanted.
The furniture was destroyed, bespoiled, torn
Trash and garbage stank, the rooms were quite soiled.
Gagged with what I saw, I retched at the thought
I allowed this to happen, decided
Naught. But now all clean were the rooms, the halls
The funk was removed, the place was renewed
Less this last door in the shadows of thought.
...And then, I opened that door. Hidden. Last.
Copyright © Matthew Wetter | Year Posted 2015
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