Doorway To Dreams
Alas, the Canadian pink velvet door
Is broken, it swings no more.
Once it welcomed the soul to enter in
But now it's by reality - broken.
Once was the image before mind's eye
Capturing the past as th' future sped by
Now reality's broken through
And the past is past - nothing new.
Once was the smell conjured up
As nostrils flared to engulf
Now realty deadens the senses
As artificial odors overwhelm with pretenses.
Once was the sense of warmth and awareness
Brought by the imagined touch of another's closeness
But reality now sweeps all away
As one finds life in cold disarray.
The pink velvet door swings on hinges
Worn and broken by false images
But it should be and can be repaired
And once again memories are to be shared.