The door is right in front of me,
I can see it with my eyes;
feel it with my hands,
guarded by my lies.
The prison is my comfort,
this room is my place;
I know every corner,
and every single space.
Out that door I know nothing,
There’s no book that I can read;
nothing to prepare me,
for the life I am to lead.
But this key will save me,
although I don’t really want to go;
It will teach me the knowledge,
that I never wished to know.
This poem and the included image are Copyright © 2010 by Tiffany Cook.
They cannot be reproduced without express written consent.
Codey’s World website has written
permission to publish this poem. No other rights are granted.
