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The Door

You open me up to the outside world,

You shut me to the negative

You lean on me when you don't have the strength to stand

You never seem to notice that I'm always there,

I never leave when others do.

I stand in place until you make me move.

I'm often silent; though at times I squeak.

You often don't know how much I protect you from,

If I weren't here you'd have unwanted persons around.

No one knows you like I do,

They don't get the chance to see the real you.

My glossy mirrored back shows the primrose you drew,

Not quite fully blossomed but covered in the morning dew.

Behind closed windows and walls,

I'm the door that shuns it all





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