SK (6 february 1993 / Earth... note: NOT mars!)

The Door

Someone knocked at my door
standing on the marble floor.

I thought it was my friend Bob,
so i hurriedly turned the knob

The door was brown
but black at the crown.

It was made of teak wood
which made it look good.

The door is a living thing
but it can't sing.

The door can't talk,
so please don't knock.

If you have something to tell
please ring the bell...

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Comments (1)

nice flow a true poem indeed thanks -mel