Poetry: Two Doors

Two doors, same destination
Walk me away from my hallucination
Tiptoe, tiptoe, avoid the issues
Avoiding water, we’ve become tissues

One turned former, the second became present
Manifesting the same things he used to resent.
The system has driven us on flat tyres to hunger
The change has spiced our meals with anger

Two doors into the womb of the same room
Unchanged promises just different lips
Slaves stayed slaved notwithstanding which master whips
Someday the squeaky hinges will expose the sneaky groom



One I know all too well
Of Its mournful creaking I can tell
In dread of what might happen
The other, I have no desire to open

She took me through the first
I do not mean to make a jest
but this world I find is with ironies oppressed
Side by side beauty and ugliness are pressed

I must go through the other door
Though distant it seems, time ferries me with vigour
Some call it death, choked with fever they yell
Others swore they’ve visited it, and know of its dangers even.



Life is a room
With two doors,one that opens,
And the other that sweeps away opportunities with a broom.

We all have keys to both.
But not all have the spare to one.
Some are patient enough to unlock the locked.
While others keep struggling to open the opened.

Misplaced their spare in the process
Of trying to access the face of success.
And they wear a silky frown face on,
While the patient ones wear a white tall smile.


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