Get Your Premium Membership

Without a Door

Footsteps fade where sidewalks end, stories told in weathered skin. Cardboard kingdoms, borrowed ground, a life unseen, without a sound. The city hums, its lights embrace, yet shadows slip between its grace. Hands once held, now pockets bare, eyes that search, but find no stare. The wind knows names the world forgets, whispers woven in regrets. A resting place beneath the sky— another night, still asking why.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 5/3/2025 12:51:00 PM
WoW Alesia! Absolutely awesome metaphors that Taylor graceful wisdom. "Eyes that search but find no stare...The wind knows names that the world forgets." This poem seems to express a death note to me. A disillusionment that speaks knowingly of Life's melancholic mortality, and honest nostalgia for our heart's preferences. This is a masterpiece of contemplative poetry with great flow...J.A.B. A FAV!!!
Login to Reply
Leach Avatar
Alesia Leach
Date: 5/11/2025 12:07:00 PM
Wow, Justin--thank you for this incredibly generous and insightful response. You truly see the soul of the poem, and your interpretation resonates deeply with what I hoped to convey. I'm so honored you connected with the melancholy and meaning woven through it. Your support and poetic eye mean the world to me--and thank you for the FAV!
Date: 4/14/2025 11:16:00 AM
Hello Alesia, I find this pom to be sad. I also wonder why itis like that. Hugs. /Darlene/
Login to Reply
De Beaulieu Avatar
Darlene De Beaulieu
Date: 4/14/2025 2:30:00 PM
Hello Alesia, you did well by giving this poem a voice. It is sad. There are so many homeless people living here where live. It is very sad. Bkig hugs. /Darlene/
Leach Avatar
Alesia Leach
Date: 4/14/2025 12:39:00 PM
Hi Darlene, Thank you for reading it. Yes, it is a sad one. It’s about the forgotten people living in hobo cities or on the streets—those we often pass by without really seeing. That kind of quiet suffering sticks with me, and I wanted to give it a voice. Big hugs back. – Alesia

Book: Reflection on the Important Things