A Door

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Someone named love came knocking on my door
I knew it wasn’t love
as I have seen him through the peephole
Another love came back in the morning
where I watch the sun and sip my coffee
I knew it wasn’t love
for I am not in that way of dreaming
Love came knocking at my door
as words pour down on my lousy paper
I kept him waiting for so long
before I stood to open the door

I saw him as he held the key to my heart
My eyes kept inquiring why he didn’t come in
He just smiled and gave me a pen
I knew this time, it’s love
I want to write more in that lousy paper
together with him and his keys
as I decided to let the door open
for all the love he kept waiting.

Author: A Living Sunflower


  1. /’LOVE’, the base of everything we’re dependent on./
    The poem is relatable for almost everyone of us, I really loved the way you’ve concluded this piece.♥️


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