Back Door (Poem)

Silent knocks at the door
Wake a sleeping snore
Soft steps on the floor
In what yesterday wore
Its already quarter to four
Time to let in the whore

Tonight is the same as before
Guilty pleasure washes ashore
Choices create a new war
Both sides not to ignore
Instead they fight more
With less options to explore

Jackets once new tore
Each strike adds score
From conflict to gore
Some cannot anymore
No birds left to soar
What comes postwar

A small chance to restore
Once claimed by carnivore
Now on knees to implore
To re-establish chore
New light from the core
Shines on the back door

Copyright © amarmirch |


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