An Insistent Knocking

Life, said the old poet
is an insistent knocking
on doors that won't open
into houses
that won't be there
by the time
they do.

So relax, stop knocking,
sit on the stoop
in front of the house
that won't be there.

Soon enough
the owner,
the houseless owner,
must exit,
looking for a new house,
a new way through,
and you'll find
he doesn't look any better than,
or different from,

by Percy Dovetonsils

Other poems of DOVETONSILS (122)

Comments (13)

.............a marvelous poem.....and congratulations on member poem of the day...enjoyed...
An admirable poem. Thank you. And I invite anyone to visit my poems on this site (link on my profile) . Abstract, urban idealism.
I liked this poem very the end, I guess, everyone becomes homeless and the feeling of being at home is only a short-lived illusion...
looking for a new house, I like it, thanks.
Be careful he doesn't run you over on his way out...
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