Paper Door
I step through the open door
upon a blank sheet of paper.
It's a room to dream into
but, it is often cold, and so damn empty.
It's cleansed and illuminated
by the presence of a holy melancholy.
Hasten the words come, and
take the loneliness away.
The pen is a train
passing through this small paper-room.
The thoughts are tracks
it lays down.
Picking up passengers of the night
it moves ever along.
The riders so briefly talk and sing
with such sweet stories to tell.
Soon all the traveller's will have left the station
and the room again, becomes Void.
I take my leave...
and softly close the door behind me.
- so many see the facts of life all about them,
yet are blind to the beautiful metaphors within everything -
poem by Smoky Hoss
Added by Poetry Lover
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