We are all born in a house
At the end of a long hallway
There are many rooms and many doors
Some open some closed
Some locked some not
Some are straightforward and look as they are
Then some are plotting to trick you
Some look pleasing but will destroy you
Others look worn down and muddy
But have great gold mounds inside
Each person has a different set of doors
Some open some closed
Some locked some not
And each person has a choice
A choice to go through the open doors
Or to find the keys to the closed
Each person makes their choices
And each life is it’s own