What is a place without any doors?
Doors that open into homes of people,
Families, happiness, and struggles,
The coziness of life.

Doors that open to the lively world outside,
Streets full of people going about their business,
Friendly greetings being exchanged,
Conversations and smiles,
Babies being pushed in carriages,
Dogs walking beside their owners.

Doors see both inside and ouside
what is secret and public.
If this door could talk, what stories would it tell?
It could tell more than a wall
which only sees part of a life,
which only stands to keep things out
and to keep things in.

Doors close, but that doesn't mean the end.
It is a connection, a path to
both sides, both worlds.
This door has seen times of peace and complete destruction.
It has been opened for rich and poor,
Has seen boys who had once been slamming it
Now marching in uniforms
Down the streets
fighting.

It has seen the happiness surrounding a birth
and the sorrow of a death.
It has stood the test of time
Witnessing historic moments
but going unnoticed,
Unappreciated,
Unknown.

So what is a door?
An opening to a new opportunity?
The closing of a life?
A witness to the world?
A piece of history?
Or a work of art?
It is merely a slab of wood,
plastic, glass, or metal
with a handle or a knob
that opens on a hinge
to let people in and out.
It is only a door.