You Cant Live In a Hallway
I climbed staircase up and up,
my boots were clicking on the floor,
I could hear the laugh of a broken lift
as I wheezed, pulling back the door.
But what was this? Some giant mess,
the hall was filled with boxes, bags,
books and dishes, a sewing machine?
Brown cases bursting internal rags.
“An eviction.” I thought so logically,
as I scooted past the scattered piles,
when a woman resting in a chair
looked up and gave an odd-ish smile.
Startled, I crashed into a cage,
and rattled an ugly bird inside.
Shaking dusty wings it cackled:
“Quiet, or you’ll end up fried!”
“I’m very sorry I scared your bird,
I was only meaning to get by.
If you need help moving out,
I’m not too strong but I could try.”
She crook’d her brow and looked at me
as she picked the stuffing from her chair,
The gold-rimmed glasses on the tip of her nose,
framed a serpent’s blink-less glare.
“I am moving neither in nor out,
this hallway is my spot.
Such lovely doors to look at here!
I’ll stick with what I’ve got.”
Too quickly I responded,
and how I wish that I did not!
“You can’t live in a hallway,
with all the stuff you’ve got.
Think of robbers, burglars, thieves!
The comfort of a lock.
I’m quite sure that there are vacancies,
ask the landlord, come, I’ll knock!”
“All of these are fine I’m sure,
though I’ve never entered any.
But when it comes to choosing one
I’m afraid the choices are too many!
Why choose just one and stick to it?
I’ve got freedom in this hall.
I’ll sooner keep abundance
while I contemplate them all.”
Her eyes were zipping ‘round my face
for any traces of retort.
Raising her brow in victory,
pleased, she gave a winning snort.
I stood my ground and said to her:
“Come now, don’t be sore.
Just tell me why you’d go through life
and never choose a door?”
“I chose this indecision, dear,
as the weather chooses to be rainy.
I think that you might come to find,
that many live a life of maybe.”
That was it! I’d had enough!
I pushed through swells of frocks.
I made my way to my own door
and turned the key inside the lock.
Her crazy eyes, her mindless thoughts,
No one lives that way!
We all must make decisions,
keep the yes and no and burn the grey!
It was then that I stopped and thought
of all the dreams I’ve stowed away.
The maybes I keep inside a box,
a ring, an answer I’ve yet to say.
I myself could never choose a door,
and as this woman lives in a hall,
could I truly blame her home of choice
when good Lord! Don’t we all?
Copyright © Lauren Johnson | Year Posted 2016
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