They are the only things that scare me.  I am the only one curious about them.  Three locked doors with wooden furnish and pretty handles.  Three who control and confuse my mind.  Three mysterious doors right in front of me.  From my bedroom I can see them, but my sister says I’m crazy.
Their enclosings are secret.  They send complicated signals into my brain.  They stretch up and they stretch down and grasp my mind with their delicate composition and pinch my imagination and never stop nagging.  This is their goal.
Let one release it’s key of unknown, they’d all stay silent in their spot, each with their handles jealously tighten.  Don’t, don’t, don’t they say when I open it.  They cry.
When I am too lost and too scared to choose a path, when I am a small thing against so many walls, then it is when I imagine doors.  When there is no choice but to determine your outcomes.  Three who lead me to unleashing my desires.  Three who give me hope and do not forget to be hopeful.  Three whose only reason is to fight and decide.