I got kicked out of where I was.. Those plastic hands threw me into this hollow, vacant hall like their trash. Now every door I go pass, slams shut before I can even attempt to enter. The last person slammed it on my fingers as I begged and fought to be let in. As much as I wanted to sit in agony, My feet kept going. I kept going,
With my aching hand in hand. But I got so used to hearing doors slam I fell in love with the music they created. Down this long road of a hall, I noticed I started to have a pep, in my once dreadful step. I was beginning to enjoy this arduous process. And then one day I walked towards a door calling my name,
with gentle, welcoming skin reaching to heal my pain.
The owner didn’t turn me away. But instead his soothing, soft voice told me to come in. He fed me with all the love from his magical kitchen, Then told me “you have risen from the forbidden-" As he unveiled a scroll,
"Now it’s time your true journey is written..."
God told me he doesn’t close a door without opening plenty more Now here I am walking through an abundance of open doors To lands no man has ever explored..