The Final Door
Memories pass by,
pass through.
The heavy ones hit hard.
Great posture
can help one stand
but can’t prevent a fall
Fragments of time
add up to make
comfortable delusions.
And the doors forced opened
exist in the
stale parts of imagination.
Standing in the open doorway
a bold move
for one too hesitant
to remember fully.
A mind full of dishonest banter
has truth somewhere.
A door opened too soon
may be missing the entrance platform.
But the doorknob
is still warm from
being touched by the hand
of one too eager
to see the end.
Memories pass by,
pass through.
The heavy ones hit hard.
Great posture
can help one stand
but can’t prevent a fall
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