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.